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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27993306">LOVED</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAuthorAgain/pseuds/TheAuthorAgain'>TheAuthorAgain</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>LOVED [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Stucky - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Recovery Bucky Barnes, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:28:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,318</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27993306</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAuthorAgain/pseuds/TheAuthorAgain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>One final choice, one final decision Steve made has changed everything forever. Is peace an option for the remnants of the universe?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes &amp; Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>LOVED [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048369</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. -Snap-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>If you did not read the tags, this story contains strong language and explicit sexual content. These things are not included with the intent of upsetting anyone, they are used tastefully to further the plot in a more complex way. Please reach out if you have a specific trigger that you want me to make sure is not in this story, something that I wouldn't know to include a warning for. Stay safe and enjoy LOVED!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two years, seven months, and three days earlier.</p><p> </p><p>I wake up with a creak in my bones. My eyes dart to the arm Tony just blasted off...or where my arm would be if Tony hadn't blasted it off. I lean my head back against the pillows on this hospital bed and sigh. Although I'm ridiculously grateful that the Wakandans offered their medical services, I'm not a huge fan of losing a limb. Again.</p><p>"I see you are awake, Sergeant. I am Shuri, Princess of Wakanda." I look at the young girl with braided hair, and vaguely remember her attending to my wounds before I fell into a necessary sleep.</p><p>I smile at the girl and sit up again. "Hey, Princess. Thanks for patching me up."</p><p>"Just Shuri is fine, Sergeant."</p><p>"I'll call you Shuri if you call me Bucky."</p><p>The princess snorts and I smile again. She comes to sit on a chair close to the bed and keeps talking. "Well, Sergeant, I have an offer for you. We have the technology to remove HYDRA's programming from your mind, and would be happy to help you after my brother's false accusations. We would put you in cryogenic sleep once more until you are healed."</p><p>The idea that I could be free of HYDRA forever is ridiculously appealing, and I can't help but feel excited. But... "I'll have to ask Steve."</p><p>"Of course. If you agree to do this, though, I'm happy to offer a soundproof room for your farewell." She winks at me and leaves, and I let out a laugh at the unexpected comment.</p><p>She returns soon with Steve, and I smile as he rushes forward to hug me. "How you feelin', baby?"</p><p>"Good, the princess fixed me up."</p><p>I smirk as she responds, "I told you, it's Shuri!"</p><p>He presses a kiss to my forehead that I lean into, then asks, "What was that offer you needed to talk to me about, Buck?"</p><p>I feel a little nervous, honestly. What if he doesn't want me to do this? This is a big decision, what if we don't agree? "I won't do it if you don't want me to, but I can't lie, I want to do it."</p><p>"Do what?"</p><p>He takes my one remaining hand as I speak. "The princess thinks she can the trigger words out of my head, forever. She'd have to put my in cryofreeze to do it, and I'd have to stay here, but I would never turn back into the Winter Soldier again. I know we've made a lot of strides with my memory, but if I can put all of that behind me forever..."</p><p>"I will support you in whatever you need to do. Of course you can do this. It's your decision to make."</p><p>I can see how fake that smile is, how much he wants me to be happy...and how much he wants me to stay with him. "And you hate it."</p><p>"Yes, and I hate it. But if you want to do this, Bucky, I will do nothing to stop you. I want you to be happy and healthy, and so I will support you in this decision."</p><p>With those words I can't stop myself from pulling him into a kiss, running my hands through his hair. When we pull apart, he asks, "Are you going to do this right now, or...?"</p><p>"I wanna do this as soon as possible, if that's okay, but the princess generously offered a soundproof room and as much time as we need before she freezes me."</p><p>"Alright then, let's go."</p><p>- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -</p><p>The intimacy of our loving has faded as I watch his sad face wave goodbye. The tube comes down over me, and I close my eyes as an icy cold jolts my system. And with that, everything goes black.</p><p>And then the tube is lifted, Steve is gone. I smile a little, because I know this reawakening means that I've been cured. But my smile fades when I see the anxiety in these technician's faces, the urgent energy of the lab. "What's going on?"</p><p>"We've got a problem. Several, actually. Prepare for battle, Sergeant."</p><p>Well, shit.</p><p>I put on the clothes they give me, stretching first. I'm always a little stiff right after waking up. "How long has it been?" I ask the soldiers and doctors moving swiftly around me. A few weeks? A month or two? I hope it hasn't been any longer, for Stevie's sake. No one answers me, so I ask again. "Hey! How long has it been?"</p><p>T'Challa answers me as he leads me down ornate stairs to a large open space. "Two years."</p><p>Two years?</p><p>Oh, no.</p><p>No, no.</p><p>Stevie, darling...</p><p>We wait, I assume for Steve to come. Sure enough, a large ship lands and spills out familiar faces. Though they look different than the last time I saw them, which is strange. Seeing as it feels like I saw them only a day ago.</p><p>Steve sees me quickly, and I smile at the wonder in his face. Though it cuts me to the core to think that it's been two years (I mean, really, two years?) since he's last seen me. He races forward and I bury myself in his embrace, try to convey with my body how much I love him and he's okay. We jerk apart, though, as explosions fall across the forcefield surrounding this remarkable country.</p><p>And I look at him, as everyone prepares for a battle I know nothing about. Soon, I promise with my eyes, soon we will be back together and I will know of your adventures. I will heal your wounds, I will comfort your sorrow. I will love you, more than any man has ever been loved. One more fight, and we will be together.</p><p>And so we set off.</p><p>I slash down as many of these strange creatures as I can, keep my eye out for Steve in the process. I can't imagine what these two years have been like for him, and I just want to catch up with him. And then I'm in a forest, where less of the dogs are. I see...fuck, man, is that a raison? I dunno. But I do know he needs to be stopped, so I do everything I can to stop him.</p><p>And then he snaps his fingers. Okay, I guess? Are we in a jazz ensemble or something? Why are you snapping?</p><p>I'm just confused, but everyone else is terrified. Which I don't really understand.</p><p>I look at him, standing so near yet so far. I look at my hand, and...oh, shit. What-"Steve?" I call out nervously as I fall forward. I don't hear a response, I just fall into an infinite black.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. -Confusion-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I wake up and he's gone.</p><p>This is confusing, because I know that my Stevie would never leave me on purpose. And this battlefield is much more bare than it should be, having just been filled with ravenous space dogs and determined warriors. Now it's empty. And that's confusing.</p><p>I sit for a moment, unsure of what to do. And then Okoye comes running. I hear voices yelling from afar, though they speak in Xhosa and I don't understand what they're saying. "Sergeant!" the general calls, "We must fight! You have been dead for six months, and the others need our help!"</p><p>Okay, what?</p><p>I can't even think about the implications of what she's saying, forced instead into urgent action. This is, in part, a blessing, because if I've been dead for six months...</p><p>I can't even think about that.</p><p>I follow her, go out of the forest to the battlefield. The battlefield that should be filled much more than it is. Why...? Yellow circles begin opening up, showing a dark landscape beyond. A battlefield much emptier than this one, only filled with empty space and endless enemies. Wait, there's a figure walking towards them, alone, wearing a broken shield on his arm...</p><p>Oh, dear God.</p><p>And so I race forward. I don't think about anything other than him. What else would there be to think about? I've been forced into battle for my entire life, and this fight is no different. I don't care if the entire goddamn world is at stake, Steve needs me. And that's reason enough to give everything I have to the cause.</p><p>So we plunge our way through the portals opening up, and upon entry of the smoky world beyond them I realize just how formidable this enemy is. I shove down my anxiety and replace it with a grimace and flexing muscles. I have a reason to be here, a reason more important than my own fear.</p><p>"Avengers..." I hear him call out somewhere nearby. I look to see the source, desperate to find his face before we begin, but I see nothing but my comrades.</p><p>"Assemble."</p><p>And we rush forward, clash against the intergalactic forces of evil with a fervor unparalleled by anyone in history. I do my best to cut down my enemies, but it's a struggle simply to stay alive. Everywhere is horrifying looking creatures clamoring to attack me, and I have to turn and move constantly to stay on top of them. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, the only reason I'm not curled in a ball on the ground.</p><p>Time passes endlessly in this way, with nothing more than gruesome violence I never wanted to experience again. A knife plunges into my upper arm, and I yell out before shooting my assailant. I pull out the curved blade with a grimace, immediately having to use it against yet another enemy.</p><p>I'm tired, though I don't want to admit it. Adrenaline can only take you so far, especially when a stinging cut is drawing blood out of your arm. I carry on, though, his face joining my primal instincts in their mission to keep me fighting.</p><p>Another knife makes its way towards me, though I'm able to dodge this one. I stab its wielder quickly with my new weapon I got from this being's comrade, and marvel at the blade's ability to take down this space creature.</p><p>I don't know how long it's been. All I know is that I want this to be over. My wish isn't granted, however, because instead fire begins raining from the hostile ships hovering in the sky. I run to take cover, feel the heat singe my face as the flames comes dangerously close to touching me. Why would whoever is in charge fire down on the battlefield that has their soldiers on it too?</p><p>My question remains unanswered, and is instead joined by more. I watch a comet(?) make its way through the ships, taking away their missiles in a radiant light.</p><p>What?</p><p>Ah, fuck it, who cares. I pull myself out of my hiding place and push myself back into the fray, which is thankfully less intense now. The hostile forces have been lost to the attacks of their own leader. I do my best to mop up the remaining, though it feels like an impossible task. There's just too many of them and not enough of us.</p><p>I run across the field to where more beings are, where I see a woman with green skin and a robotic being with blue paneling being overwhelmed. I lift my gun and rain fire, accurately cutting down the savage dogs trying to eat them. I then race forward and help the women finish off the rest with my knife.</p><p>"Thank you," the blue woman says with a rasping voice.</p><p>I smile tightly and give a curt nod. "Yep. No problem."</p><p>And I'm off once more.</p><p>Now that I'm not too overwhelmed to look at my surroundings, I can see familiar faces all around. There's Clint, using some sort of staff to skillfully knock down his foes. There's Wanda, dominating with the red light swelling from her palms. I look for Steve, desperate to have a real reunion with my lover, but I can't see him anywhere.</p><p>Not that we would be able to have a real reunion in this mess. No, we'll just have to wait until after the fight is done. The joy this imagining brings me is enough to put a faint smile on my face. Yes, I'll get to see him when all this is over. I'll get to see him, hold him, comfort him. And I honestly cannot wait.</p><p>In a strange coincidence, I actually spot him across the battlefield. His beautiful face is contorted in pain, he's lying on the ground and clutching his neck. Oh, honey, stay safe for me. Please stay safe for me. The sight of him in pain causes me pain, and I subconsciously grab my neck in sympathy.</p><p>Then I see Tony come towards him, holding something in his hands. I move forward, try to reach the pair and help out with whatever their goal is. I'm distracted for a moment, some sort of space monster rushing towards me in a feverish rage. I cut it down, and look back to Steve.</p><p>And nearly have a heart attack.</p><p>Because he's staring down the large purple man I saw in Wakanda. Multicolored light is shooting up and down his body, coating his face with an agony that cuts me to my core. I sprint towards him, desperate to stop him from whatever he's doing. If it causes him that much pain, I can't let it happen.</p><p>And then, he snaps his fingers.</p><p>And everything goes batshit crazy.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. -Sympathy-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I'm frozen in shock for a moment, seeing his fingers force themselves to snap with the gauntlet holding all six stones. I simply stand for a moment as our enemies begin turning to dust, disintegrating before my eyes. I'm finally startled back to movement when I see him limply fall to the ground.</p><p>I sprint over along with everyone in the general vicinity, try to reach him first. Tony is turning him to his side, propping him up, as I reach them. I shove the Iron Man aside and cup Steve's cheek gently, see those beautiful blue eyes widen in shock and begin to fill with tears.</p><p>"Buck..." he croaks out, voice a wreck. I shush him, run my thumb along his filthy cheek.</p><p>"Can we get a doctor here, please?" I urgently ask, eyes still on him. I don't want to yell, don't want to startle him, but the tears and pain in my voice are enough to let everyone realize how badly my darling needs help.</p><p>The ash and grime on his face is washed away by his tears, clear tracks paving their way down. I wipe them away as best I can, because (oh, God) because I can't do anything else to help him. Because (God) because my Stevie has hurt himself in a way I can't heal.</p><p>A man wearing a ridiculous red cape tries to pull me aside, but a primal fear fills me. "I'm not leaving him," I say in a shaking voice, my emotion burning through every single word.</p><p>"I'm a doctor, move! I'm going to bring him somewhere to get him help!" Oh. I scramble back a bit as the doctor opens up another one of those yellow portals, where a hallway full of very shocked people in scrubs gape. I help him lift up Steve, carry him to a room. "Christine, are you here? Anyone else? I need some help!" The doctor pulls on gloves quickly and shoves me out of the room, replacing me with frantic hospital workers.</p><p>And then I find myself standing outside a wooden door, a wooden door keeping me away from my (not dead, please) lover.</p><p>A hand touches my shoulder, and I flinch away from it. I relax a bit, however, when I see Clint looking at me heavily. "Hey, Bucky, it's good to see you."</p><p>"How the hell did you get in here?" I ask. Clint silently points to the portal in the hall, which the doctor must've forgotten to close. "Oh."</p><p>"Do you have any questions? I mean, you probably do, but any really pressing ones? I gotta get back to Laura and the kids, but I wanted to see if I could help you out seeing as-"</p><p>"He's not dead!" I snarl. I shock myself with my harsh tone.</p><p>Clint looks at me calmly, unfazed. "No, he's not, but he is very injured. And this is a difficult time, so I just wanted to see if I could help you."</p><p>"I don't need anything from you."</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>When he goes, I wish he stayed.</p><p>I hug myself, realize that I'm shaking. Is there-it sure feels like there isn't much air in here, they must've-I struggle to breathe, my heart racing almost as fast as my thoughts.</p><p>"Sir?" I jump again, see a nurse looking at me with sympathy, concern, and a hint of disgust. "Can I help you? Did you, uh, come from there?" She points to the portal, a direct path to an ash-covered battlefield.</p><p>I shudder and try to think, although everything feels like mush. "Yeah...I, uh...Steve? Steve is-he's in there, and I-I was gonna wait? Until he, if he-" My voice breaks and I put a hand on the wall to stabilize myself.</p><p>"Sir, I'm so sorry, but I'm going to need more information. Are you hurt? Are you-wait a minute, are you James Barnes?" I nod dumbly, and she gives an awed smile. "Oh, wow, my grandpa knew you back-well anyways, we can get you into a room and see if you're hurt. And if you're waiting for the...if you're waiting to see if the Captain...we'll tell you what happens with Captain Rogers."</p><p>"Okay?" My voice is rough and confused, unable to think or do anything. And I'm brought to the room, and they're looking at me and saying something about surgery...and I'm sedated.</p><p>"Barnes! Hey, Barnes!"</p><p>I wake up groggily and see the doctor standing before me, his cape hovering next to him. What? Never mind, don't care. "Is Steve-?"</p><p>"I'm Doctor Stephen Strange, I orchestrated Steve's surgery. It went well, considering everything. He's alive, but we had to amputate his right arm."</p><p>With so much to process, the only thought in my head is, we'll be matching!</p><p>Stephen continues on briskly, "Doctor Helen Cho has the ability to recreate Steve's arm with her technology, but we wanted to ask for your opinion first as Stark and the others said you would know what Steve would want. So?"</p><p>"You're...you're asking me if Steve would want to have his arm?"</p><p>"Yes, if he would want Doctor Cho to fabricate an arm using Steve's cells with her cradle."</p><p>"Um..." I think it over for a moment. Would he think it was weird and alien? Doubt it, but he might think it feels like cheating. Like he's being given a right that others...that I didn't. Would he want to feel my pain, or would he want to carry on with all limbs? I think it over, trying to keep my opinions out of the decision making.</p><p>Of course, I want him to have an arm. Not having mine, it's hard. When I take it off, I can barely function properly, being so used to full motor abilities. But would Steve want to have one? I think he would. I remember back to when he found my self harm wounds. Later, he told me, "For a second, I wished that I could relate to your pain. But then I realized that I don't have to feel your pain to understand it."</p><p>So the choice is clear. "He'll want the arm, Doctor Strange. If you don't mind?"</p><p>"Of course not. I'll tell Helen." He turns to leave, and I watch him go, slightly dazed. He looks back once at the door, though, and gives me a sympathetic glance. "I'm sorry, Mr. Barnes. I know this is a lot to process, and it's hard to understand everything going on. I promise this will all make sense soon."</p><p>I nod politely, and he leaves. Thank God, what a condescending asshat. The snarky thought is soon overcome by grief, however. Stevie, honey, what have you done?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. -Day-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I wake again, startled for a moment as I don't recognize where I am. Then I remember. Yesterday, the strangest day of my life that lasted 2 and a half years.</p><p>Morning, recovering from the battle in Siberia and going into cryofreeze. Waking up to an invasion. Dying. Waking up again to find another battle. Fighting. Winning. But at what cost? Telling the doctor to help my Stevie. Sleeping. And now, waking once more.</p><p>I stretch, sore from all the physical exertion I put myself under. I see a stack of clothes and a note on my bedside table- "Put these on when you wake up and come down to room 226."</p><p>I rush to obey, stripping and throwing on the garments without even noticing what they are. I burst into the hallway, follow signs down a staircase. 220...222...224...226. I stop outside and knock hesitantly.</p><p>A woman in scrubs opens the door and smiles at me. "Come on in, Mr. Barnes, he isn't awake yet but you're very much welcome." She leaves, and my stomach drops at the sight inside the room.</p><p>Steve is covered in bruises and cuts, large bags under his eyes and heavy bandaging coating his right arm. I sit by the bed hesitantly, taking his left hand in both of mine and marveling at the warmth it possesses. Looking at him...you'd think he was a corpse. But this heat he's exuding is a reminder that death can't claim him yet.</p><p>I sit there for a while, just looking at him. I probably should've grabbed a book or something, but oh well. I get more comfortable in the chair, try to take a nap or-</p><p>"Bucky?"</p><p>My eyes shoot open, and I look over to see his awestruck face. "Yeah, yeah, baby, it's me! It's me, Steve, I'm here."</p><p>"Buck..." And he cries again, just like he did on that battlefield. Does he not remember seeing me then, or is he just-shit, man, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because he's hurting and somehow I'm helping. I lean forward and put an arm over him, run it gently along his side and give a watery smile. "Bucky, I missed you so much..."</p><p>His voice cracks at that, which hurts me to my soul. "Fuck it," I mutter, fully getting out of the chair and finagle my way next to him on the bed. "Scootch over, Rogers, I'm hanging off of this thing by a thread." </p><p>"It's your own fault for having such a fat ass, maybe you could fit into a bed with me if you tried just a little bit harder to be just a little bit smaller," he retorts, giving that signature grin. He does move, however, and we're comfortably situated after a few more adjustments. He leans his head against my chest, and I pull his body close to me. "I really did miss you, Buck, I missed you so-" </p><p>He can't continue, but I understand. I hum softly and just hold him, let him cry as much as he needs to. We hardly say anything, what words can capture this painfully wonderful moment? I don't know what I can say, what I can do, but I know that I can hold him.</p><p>And so I do. And it's exactly right.</p><p> </p><p>Steve sweet talks his way out of the hospital just a week later. Before that, however, he tells me everything I've missed. Which is...which is a lot.</p><p>He traveled the globe with Sam and Natasha. Natasha, who is now dead. Hearing of her passing...God. It hurt, it really did. And I could tell it hurt Steve, too, understandably. She was one of the only people who supported him after he got out of the ice, and that was incredibly important to him.</p><p>Natasha Romanoff was kind, though her badass attitude hid it well. And she was brave, til the end. You have to be brave to sacrifice yourself for the universe.</p><p>She deserved better. She deserved a long life with the people who loved her. And I wish she could've gotten it. But fucking Thanos, man.</p><p>So after those two years, he came along, right? Talking shit about saving the world while taking actions to end it. And on the day I was scheduled to come out of the ice, the day I was scheduled to reunite with my Stevie, Thanos took action. Like the purple-ass grape he is.</p><p>So no reunion for Steve, though he missed me so much it. No, instead he had to watch me die, fall to the Earth in a cloud of dust. Along with half the universe.</p><p>That part confuses me, but maybe I just don't want to accept it. Sam, Wanda, Laura, the kids...me...I guess I just don't want to think about the fact that Steve had to lose everyone at once. Six months without us. Jesus Christ.</p><p>He tells me about some of his coping mechanisms. Some of his terrifying, gut wrenching, extremely unhealthy coping mechanisms. And I have to take a minute, though I assure him he's done nothing wrong. I'm happy he's telling me, of course I am, I just...I wish he didn't have to tell me. I wish it never happened in the first place.</p><p>Because what if I came back and he wasn't there? What if I came back and he had been dead for months, by his own hand? I can't-I don't want to think about it. I can't think about it. The idea of that makes me want to vomit.</p><p>So I guess I'll just bury that deep in my mind until Steve wants to talk about it. Because I don't think I'm able to talk about it right now.</p><p>And then, he tells me about finding Scott. Putting together their plan and their team. This is a hell of a lot easier to hear, if we're being honest. He tells me about traveling back in time, revisiting 2012 and seeing 1970 for the very first time. Seeing Peggy for the very last time.</p><p>I wish I could've seen her, too. Agent Carter was always an incredible woman, a woman I wish I got to know better.</p><p>He tells me about the battle. He tells me about Hulk snapping.</p><p>He tells me about him snapping.</p><p>Steve says it was like an unimaginable pain, but also limitless power. He struggles to find the words to describe it, becoming distressed when he can't, and I gently shush him. "It's okay, darling. I know. I know, baby, I know."</p><p>"Yeah, you do."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. -Different-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Steve, seriously, I think you should stay in the hospital a little longer." The dumbass is insisting on leaving, even though Doctor Cho has emphasized that he still has a lot of healing to do. Which makes sense, seeing as he took on the Gauntlet that almost killed fucking Thanos when he used it.</p><p>The idiot is undeterred, however. "I'm fine, babe, really! And I promise you I'll do plenty of resting once we get to the Tower...along with other things." He gives a seductive wink and a smirk.</p><p>"Are you seriously trying to get me to ignore your need to stay in the hospital by seducing me?"</p><p>"That depends, did it work?"</p><p>I look at him contemplatively, and sigh. "Fuck, a little bit. But it doesn't really matter, anyways, because I can only influence the choices you make, not make them for you. Once we get to the Tower, you're getting to bed."</p><p>"James Buchanan Barnes, are you trying to seduce me? While I'm in this condition?" He looks scandalized, and I roll my eyes and punch him (gently) on the shoulder. The uninjured one, obviously.</p><p>"Punk. Get in the car."</p><p>We hold hands along the drive, and I hum along with the song on the radio. I can't think of the name, but that's all right. It's got a nice melody.</p><p>Steve doesn't say anything, but I can feel his gaze pierce my face. "You okay, Stevie?"</p><p>"Yeah. Yes, fuck, I'm okay. I'm just..." He lets out a shuddering breath and a slightly hysterical chuckle, gripping my hand tighter. "This is surreal. I feel like I'm gonna wake up any minute, and you'll still be dead."</p><p>"Can't get rid of me that easy, Rogers. I'm here, and you better believe it."</p><p>He lets out a dry huff of air. "I'm tryin'."</p><p>Once we get to the Tower, I rush out of the car and around to the passenger's side to help Steve inside. He tries to brush me off initially, but doesn't really resist as I wrap an arm around his waist and walk him through the big glass doors.</p><p>I realize with a start that I've never actually been inside this building, though I've heard plenty about it from Steve. Jesus, this place is where he outed himself and forced us to go into hiding. This is where he lived right after the battle of New York, at least until he got his apartment.</p><p>And this is where the remaining Avengers are waiting, breaking into smiles and applause the moment we walk in. I smile, and even see Steve pull a little grin at the sight of his friends. Tony walks up, and I can't help but tense a little. The billionaire notices, but chooses to ignore my reaction to his prescence.</p><p>"Good to see you, Capsicle. Sorry for the fanfare, we're just a teensy bit grateful that you saved the literal fucking universe. You remember where your room is?"</p><p>"Yep. Thanks again for letting us stay."</p><p>"Least I could do." He smiles at Steve, then turns to me. A firm nod, one that I silently return. We go up the elevator without talking to anyone else, which feels kind of ride, but whatever. Steve doesn't let go of me the entire ride, and no words are spoken.</p><p>I don't really want to think about it, but...he's different. We used to touch all the time like this, but now? Now it feels kind of desperate, like he's afraid I'll fade away the moment he lets go. Which makes sense, of course, I understand, but...</p><p>I dunno. I don't really want to think about that right now. We're together, that's what matters.</p><p>"Care to give me the grand tour?" I ask playfully once Steve unlocks the door with his handprint. He chuckles a little, but says nothing. Yeah, he's a lot quieter now, too. Which is a little weird. But he's Steve! And he's hurt. So that makes sense.</p><p>"Actually, you need to go to bed, what am I thinking! C'mon, where's the bedroom...here we go. Wow, that bed looks comfortable. Do you wanna shower or something before you go to bed? I can look for some nice pajamas, or-"</p><p>"Buck, are you okay?"</p><p>He looks at me with concern, and I cut off my rambling. "I can't believe you're asking me that, Steve, after you lost a fucking arm!" I laugh forcefully, but my joke doesn't seem to resonate with him.</p><p>"Well, I got it back, didn't I?"</p><p>"That's true, that's true. But, uh, do you want to shower? Well, with all that bandaging and the cast and stuff you probably can't-"</p><p>"Bucky. What's going on?" He looks at me, blue eyes full of worry and determination, and I feel my fake smile melt away.</p><p>What's going on is that you're different, Steve, you're hurting, and I don't know how to help. You're quiet when you used to be loud, you don't laugh at things you used to find funny. And while I love you more than life itself, these changes are scaring me.</p><p>I've heard what happened in the time I was gone, I know how bad it was, but seeing the effects makes it so much more real. You can't go through something like that without having the scars from it, I understand that very well, but that doesn't mean I want to see them.</p><p>Which is ridiculous, of course! I love every part of you, healthy and hurting, good and bad. But seeing you like this, Steve, it's so much harder than I ever thought it would be. And it's so sudden, at least to me-it feels like I was just put in the ice a week ago!</p><p>I want to support you in any and every way I can, but after everything you've lost, how can I? This damage seems permanent, impermeable. Will you ever recover from it? Is there anything I can do to help you recover from it? I just don't know, Steve, and that's fucking terrifying.</p><p>Then again, this is how you must've felt when you realized I was the Winter Soldier. And you helped me then, though everyone told you that the universe deemed me a lost cause. I will help you, Steve, however I can, but the ways you've changed...</p><p>You're scaring me. Your pain scares me. And I hate that so goddamn much, because your prescence has always been the epitome of safety. Am I evil for feeling this way? Or justified?</p><p>I sigh deeply and give him a smile. "Nothing's going on, Steve. Let's get you to bed."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. -Stare-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Look, I know I'm hot as fuck, but that doesn't mean that I like being stared at all the time.</p><p>I'm still reeling in the wake of everything that's happened-and I didn't even have to go through most of it-so I completely understand that Steve is shell shocked. But...I'm kind of don't understand, also.</p><p>I'm hot, so people like staring at me. But Steve's been doing it a lot, to the point where it makes me pretty uncomfortable.</p><p>Every morning when I wake up, he's looking at me. I'll ask him how he slept, he always says he slept fine. And then goes quiet. And keeps staring.</p><p>So I'll ask him if he's hungry, and he'll say yes. And then just stay still and silent. And staring. So I'll make breakfast for the two of us, while he keeps staring.</p><p>It's pretty fucking weird.</p><p>What's irritating, though, is that I understand. Because what he went through, losing me and then getting hope and then losing hope and then getting me back and then losing hope...it would make anyone a little insecure. A little clingy. I understand, but I don't like it. Which sucks balls.</p><p>Speaking of sucking balls, we haven't. Which is fine, I guess, but again, weird. I'm pretty damn sure Steve still finds me attractive, otherwise he wouldn't be staring at me all the time, but then why doesn't he seem interested in sex? I'm not pushing it at all, of course, but I'm just a little confused.</p><p>So, I do what I do best, and try to seduce him into telling me what's wrong.</p><p>Clint finally succeeded in getting Steve to leave me for an hour or so, saying that he needed help with the kids while Laura was going grocery shopping. So I get our room ready while he's gone, light candles and tidy up. I've never liked cleaning, but this is for a good cause.</p><p>I think about putting on something scandalous, but decide against it. My plan is to get Steve talking, telling me what's wrong, and sex is just a benefit. Hopefully. I'm actually not too sure what my plan is, but I know that my first priority is to figure out what's wrong with Steve.</p><p>I hear the door unlock about an hour after he left, and I keep looking at my phone as he comes in. He doesn't say anything, which isn't unusual, and just comes to sit by me. I also stay silent, scrolling through my camera roll absently and pretending to be preoccupied.</p><p>"Hey, Buck."</p><p>Yes, he started the conversation! "Hey, Stevie, how was it?" I look up from my phone and see him looking at my face intently.</p><p>"Good, I guess. Cooper and I did some drawing while Lila, Nate, and Clint played Operation."</p><p>I hum an acknowledging response, and wait for him to respond. When he doesn't, I sigh and swing my legs over to straddle his lap. "Bucky, what are you doing?" he asks, voice a little tight. I smile and lean in a little, brushing my lips against his in a ghost of a kiss. "Buck..."</p><p>I lean in again, this time kissing him for real. He reciprocates, thank God, and I feel his hand thread through my hair. I touch the back of his neck and then move my hands down, grip each muscle of his back as the kiss intensifies.</p><p>With the way I'm sitting on him, I can easily feel Steve begin to get hard. My hands trail down to the back of his belt, and start to pull off his tucked shirt, when he tugs himself away from me. "Bucky, I..."</p><p>"You what?" I ask, eyes searching his face for the meaning for his strange actions. He leans his head back and rests it against the couch, eyes a million miles away as they observe the ceiling.</p><p>"I don't think I can do this."</p><p>"That's okay, Steve. You know that you can always say no, you can always tell me if you don't want to have sex. But...can I know why? Because right now, it...kind of feels like I'm doing something wrong, and I don't really kno-"</p><p>"No, no, baby, no!" he blurts out, and I sigh internally with relief. "It's not you at all, it's just..."</p><p>"It's just..."</p><p>"I feel like if I have that pleasure, that...sensation with you, then all of this won't feel real. It doesn't feel real right now, it feels like I'm gonna wake up any second and you'll be gone."</p><p>"But I'm right here, Steve." I take one of his hands and press it against my chest, spread out his fingers so he can feel the beating of my heart.</p><p>"I know. Logically, I know that. And I feel so shitty for-for being like this, but it just still doesn't feel real. I..."</p><p>Suddenly, a brilliant idea hits me. "Hey, wanna give me a blowjob?"</p><p>"...what? I mean, sure, but...what?"</p><p>"Okay," I say, readjusting myself on his lap and letting go of his hand so I can move mine around to emphasize my words. "So you don't feel like this is real, and you think that if I fuck you then your dream or whatever is gonna end and you'll wake up. But what if you just pleasure me, still have that intimacy, and hopefully realize that this is real so I can return the favor?"</p><p>I look at him with a grin, and see his tired face quirk into a smile. "So smart, baby." He caresses my cheek, and I close my eyes and lean into the touch, hum happily. A pair of lips sweetly touch mine, nothing too lustful or passionate, but still holding love in their gentle movement.</p><p>I wrap my arms around his neck, feel his grip my waist. My mouth opens, inviting his tongue to join mine in an elaborate dance we're masters of now. His hands grip my ass, my thighs, and then-shit. I let out a loud moan at the sudden touch, and he gladly swallows the sound.</p><p>I gasp for air as Steve moves, lays me down on the couch and hovers over me, pressing open mouthed kisses onto my jaw and neck. He acts as though he's on a mission, a mission he'd die before failing. I've never seen him act this dominant, this forceful. And, uh, I kinda like it.</p><p>He rips my shirt off, literally, and tosses the shreds to the side. I yelp as his mouth finds one of my nipples, tweaking the other with calloused fingers. That yelp turns into a needy moan, one drawn out as he keeps playing with me and ignoring the tent growing in my sweatpants.</p><p>"Stevie..." I whine, and he runs the hand not on my nipple up and down my side. His mouth moves down, kissing along my abs and irritatingly stopping before reaching the promised land. "C'mon, Steve, c'mon," I say, needy and impatient after waiting so long for him to do this. He says nothing in response, simply locking our lips together again as he plays with the waistband of my pants.</p><p>He palms me again, making me groan into his mouth. I long to touch him, hear those sounds come out of his mouth, but I also want to respect his wishes. So I keep my hands on his neck and upper back, hold him close as he touches me through my pants.</p><p>And then he pulls my pants off, more gently than he did my shirt. I'm left bare in just my underwear, feeling vulnerable as the only one showing skin in the room. But that vulnerability is invigorating, wonderful, and embraced by him as he pulls my lettuce off, too.</p><p>And his mouth finally leaves mine to go where I want it too, and he swirls the head lightly in his mouth before taking in my length, starting out slowly before speeding up his pace. My breaths become heavy and erratic as he works furiously, and my words become a meaningless chant of his name and a choice selection of curses.</p><p>His teeth gently scrape along the sides, and I cry out at the feeling. I know I'm getting close, feel the heat building up in my abdomen. "Steve..." I whine out, almost to let him know, but I'm sure he assumes I'm cumming when cum spurts into his mouth and I yell out his name, the hand I have in his hair tightening and flexing as I thrust myself into him, ride it out.</p><p>I let out a deep breath as I feel my muscles relax, close my eyes and smile a little. I open my eyes, and Steve is staring at me. But it's a different kind of stare, one that wants to look at me instead of one that thinks I'm going to fade away if it doesn't.</p><p>"Can I do you, now?" I ask politely. He looks a little bashful as he nods yes. I chuckle and pull him close. "C'mere, then."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. -Legacy-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Steven Grant Rogers, get your hands off of my oven!"</p><p>"I'm just-"</p><p>"No," I say, speed walking over to the kitchen and slapping his hand away from the knobs for the gas stovetop, "No touching! Get your ass out of my kitchen, Rogers."</p><p>He looks at me with an amused irritation and crosses his arms, feet planted firmly on the ground. "This is technically my kitchen, James. Tony did make this room for me, after all."</p><p>"Mhm, okay. Move, now."</p><p>"Make me." I look at him with disbelief, and see his smirk turn a little dirty. Alright then, Steve, if that's what you want. I pick him up and hoist him over my shoulder, laughing at his startled yelp. "Bucky, c'mon!" I ignore his yells and plop him on the couch, turning to go back to the kitchen.</p><p>A hand grips the back of my shirt, pulling me towards him. "Bucky, I meant that in a sex way, not in an 'eject me from the room and then leave' way!" Steve whines, grabbing my hips and yanking me back to sit on his legs.</p><p>"Okay, but I'm making dinner! And I'm pretty sure you left the stove on! And I kind of don't want to burn down the Tower!" </p><p>He rolls his eyes and cuddles me closer, burrowing his face into my chest. "Gah, you're no fun." I pat his shoulder and he lets go of me, following me into the kitchen. I turn off the stove and check on the meatloaf I have in the oven. When I start making the salad, Steve says, "Y'know, you could let me help."</p><p>"Do you want to set the table?" I ask sweetly, chopping carrots quickly.</p><p>He gives me a withering look, one I can barely see out of my peripheral vision. "I mean actually help, Buck. I don't know why you act like I'm such a bad cook, I fed myself for years before you came back! And after you went into cryo again!"</p><p>"Before I came back, you were fed by Raisin Bran and the premade sandwiches from Target. After I went in the ice, you were fed by Sam and Natasha."</p><p>"Okay, but after... you know... I made food!" He fumbles for words as I chuckle.</p><p>"Yeah? Do you consider burning microwave dinners cooking?"</p><p>"Fuck you."</p><p>The oven timer goes off, then, and I finish up the salad quickly before taking out the meatloaf. "Steve, seriously, can you go set the table?"</p><p>He nods and scurries off. "Yeah, of course."</p><p>After dinner, we just sit and watch TV for a while. We could go down and see if anyone's on the communal floor, but I ate too much and got sleepy. Steve rests under my arm as we watch some weird ghost hunting show, until I have to go to the bathroom. When I come back, he's fully lying down on the couch.</p><p>"Where do you expect me to sit, punk?" I say lightly, and he taps his chest lightly. "You want me to sit on your chest? That doesn't sound too comfortable for anyone involved, but if-"</p><p>"Stop being an asshole and come over here! You missed it, they got the ghost."</p><p>I oblige, laying down on top of Steve and feeling him put a blanket on top of our embracing forms. Once we're both situated comfortably, I sigh contently and look back to the screen. "Yeah? What was- it was the thing that got the guy from the vent, right? And did they get it out of him before the plane crashed?"</p><p>"Yep, they got it." He yawns, causing me to yawn too. My eyelids become heavier by the second, and as the TV drones on I can't keep them open any longer. I drift into a dreamless sleep.</p><p>A loud yell awakens me with a start, and I jolt up off Steve's chest. He's the one yelling, though, and I look down in shock as he writhes around on the couch. "No, no, bring her back, don't- stop it, stop hurting her!"</p><p>"Steve, wake up! C'mon, Stevie, it's just a dream..." I shake him roughly, and after a moment he stops yelling and sits up, panting. "Hey-" He attacks me in a hug, sobbing into the crook of my neck. "Oh, Stevie. I know, baby, I know, it was just a dream..."</p><p>I rub his hair and back gently as I rock him back and forth, let him cry. Eventually he leans back, wiping his face and sniffing. "That one was so bad, Bucky..."</p><p>"Do you want to tell me about it?" I ask, running my hands over his biceps in a comforting caress.</p><p>"It was Nat... and Thanos... God, Buck, it was awful. He was saying it was- it was my fault, and just beating her, and she was screaming so much..."</p><p>His face contorts in distress, and I kiss his forehead. "It was just a dream, honey. Thanos is gone, we're safe. You're safe."</p><p>"I really miss her, Buck. She said that this might happen, but I never actually wanted... I just really miss her." He breaks down again, and I wrap my arms around him as he sobs. "I don't want her to be gone, Bucky, I want her back! I want her back..." From there all coherent words are lost, and the most I can do is hold him and murmur comforting words.</p><p>Eventually, he falls back asleep. Crying tuckers him out, always has. I pick him up and walk to the bedroom, lay him down and tuck him in. The sight of his face, wet with tears, sends a pang through my heart. I wipe them away gently, a light frown firmly situated on my face.</p><p>I never knew Natasha Romanoff, not really. But I know how much she meant to Steve. I know she was brave, and a huge help in any fight. I know she was kind, fiercely so. I know she saw the wrongs of her actions and changed them, made her gravestone into a monument for a hero instead of an unmarked resting place for a villain.</p><p>I know she would want my Steve to be happy, she said so herself in the last words they exchanged. So while I never knew Natasha Romanoff, I know that I will respect her wishes and help Steve. I'll do it for all the times she helped Steve when I couldn't. She has left behind a legacy, one I will do my part to carry on.</p><p>Though I wish she could be here to carry it herself.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. -Simplicity-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>We're going downstairs for the first time in a few days!</p><p>I'm excited. We've been at the Tower for a while now, and just about all that time has been spent upstairs in Steve and I's room. It's nice, don't get me wrong, but I do miss the outdoors. And other people.</p><p>Tony decided to make lunch for everyone, which could either be great or terrible. We'll just have to see. I hold Steve's hand as we walk down the stairwell, forgoing the elevator to take the longer route to the communal floor of the Tower.</p><p>Steve and I have lived in many places over the last few years, but this one is one of the nicer ones. We enter a large living room where Clint and Laura are playing with their kids, chasing around Cooper while Lila holds her baby brother. I gravitate towards the latter, cooing at the sight of the boy.</p><p>"Hey, Nate, how you doin'?" He doesn't respond, as he is a baby, but I smile nonetheless. "Aww, Lila, you're such a good big sister."</p><p>"Thanks," she replies, bouncing her brother and smiling at me. I kiss the top of her head and go sit next to Clint on a large sectional.</p><p>"Do you know what Stark's making for lunch?" I ask the archer, who's watching his wife and son play with a grin.</p><p>"Uh..." He pulls his gaze away to look at me, and thinks for a moment. "No. I'm guessing he's just ordering takeout, though, if I know Tony."</p><p>Steve sits next to me, throwing an arm over my shoulders casually and leaning across me to look at Clint. "Hey, Barton, how's it going?"</p><p>"Good, good. Just been spending time with these rascals, mostly." As if summoned, Cooper runs up to his dad and taps him on the nose, yelling, "Tag!" Laura, seeing that Clint is talking to Steve and I, speed walks over and lets Clint give her a high five, chasing back after her son now that she's "it".</p><p>"Yeah, I bet. I think that's what pretty much everyone has been doing, making up for lost time," Steve muses, absently rubbing circles on my shoulder with his thumb.</p><p>Clint looks at us and gives a wicked grin, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms. "Sure, yeah. You've been taking care of him, then, Barnes? 'Making up for lost time' every night? Because I know-"</p><p>"Okay, Clint, thank you!" I yell, making him laugh. "God, I forgot what an ass you can be."</p><p>He winks. "It's part of my charm."</p><p>At this point, Tony comes into the room with his typical swagger. I can't help but shrink a little into Steve's arms, as my only interactions with Howard's son haven't exactly been jovial. Stark doesn't see this, however, instead announcing, "Everyone get off your ass-butts and come into the kitchen, I made Goulash a la Tony." Clint raises an eyebrow at the barely avoided curse, picking up Nathaniel and carrying him into the kitchen. The rest of us follow his lead, and find every other resident of the Tower already waiting in the dining room.</p><p>Bruce smiles as Lila runs up to him, hugging her very favorite scientist. Pepper tries to stand to greet us, but Rhodey and Wanda grab her arms to keep her very pregnant self sitting down. Sam grins and beckons Steve and I over, and we sit to his left by Wanda.</p><p>"It might not be good-who am I kidding, I made it! It'll be great. But if it isn't, pretend to like it, okay?" Tony rambles as he puts a large pot on the hot pads on the table, letting everyone serve themselves.</p><p>Steve grabs just a tiny bit of food, which kind of concerns me. I know he didn't eat a lot during the months after Thanos, so I've been trying to get him in the habit of taking what he needs. When the ladle is passed to me, I take the exact same amount of food that Steve did. "Buck, don't you want some more? That's barely anything!"</p><p>"I'd say the same to you," I respond quietly, my tone playful but my message firm. He looks down at his own bowl and takes the spoon from me to dish up some more. I do the same, and we all dig in.</p><p>The goulash actually isn't half bad, and everyone sings their praises to Tony. The table is full of laughter and jokes, light conversation that doesn't breach the subject of those we've lost. I stay quiet for the most part, mostly just enjoying the friendly ambiance that hangs around these tired and broken people.</p><p>It hits me that this is the first time I've been included in this kind of thing, a casual hangout with the Avengers. This brings a little joy to my face- a few years ago, this never would've been possible. I laugh a bit louder, smile a bit wider, as I appreciate the series of terrible events that led to this lovely lunch on a Sunday afternoon.</p><p>"So, um, Bucky, how have you found the Tower so far?" Tony asks tentatively. I know an olive branch when I see one, and I squeeze Steve's hand under the table as I smile widely.</p><p>"It's been great. I heard Steve talk about this place all the time, but I obviously never got to see it. If anything, it's even better than I had pictured it."</p><p>Tony smiles back at me, a genuine one that hardly resembles his typical cocky smirk. "That's great! I'd be happy to give you a tour sometime... I don't know that you've really been anywhere but your room."</p><p>I see Clint preparing to make a crude joke, and cut him off swiftly. "That would be great."</p><p>Clint and Lila take the responsibility of cleaning up, leaving the rest of us sitting around the table and chatting. I rest an arm on the back of Steve's chair, and feel his ankle hook around mine. I tune out of the conversation for a while and just enjoy it, if that makes sense. Let this simple exchange between old friends comfort me, despite the fact that I can't really participate much.</p><p>Eventually, Laura has to bring Nathaniel up for his nap. Tony and Pepper leave too, claiming that they have some work to do for Stark Industries. Clint takes Lila and Cooper to the park, bundling them into hats and jackets beforehand to protect them from the crisp fall air.</p><p>Bruce leaves, too, giving no excuse. Which is perfectly fine. Sam, Steve, and I just sit and chat for a while, moving into the living room. The time passes quickly as we joke around, and sooner rather than later we decide to go grab some dinner.</p><p>The things that led to these simple pleasures, they were awful. But honestly... I think they were worth it. Bickering about the details of a show none of us care about with Sam while holding Steve's hand makes it worth it. Lying beside my lover that night, without nightmares plaguing either of us, that's worth it. And waking up in the morning to another day I know can be whatever I want it to be? Worth it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. -Live-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"...and the pool. Obviously. I tried to get another hot tub in here, but Pepper said that six was more than enough."</p><p>I look around at the room Tony is beckoning to with outstretched arms, and nod approvingly. "Nice. I'll have to come down here sometime, once I've gotten myself a swimsuit."</p><p>Stark looks at me with mischevious eyes and a devilish smirk. "Well, you don't neccesarilly need one. Me and Pep came down here once, after everyone had left the building, and-"</p><p>"Boss, Nick Fury and Maria Hill are requesting to meet with you downstairs." I sigh internally with relief as FRIDAY's robotic voice interrupts a story I definitely did not want to hear. Tony stops talking and looks to the ceiling in confusion.</p><p>"No kidding? Haven't seen that pirate and the trusty Smee in forever...what did you say they wanted?"</p><p>"Nick Fury and Maria Hill are requesting to meet with you down-"</p><p>"Yeah, yeah, got that part. What do they want to talk about, though?"</p><p>"One moment," FRIDAY says, and Tony picks at a scab on his hand while he waits for a response. I just keep looking around the pool, and all six hot tubs. Actually, Tony's idea isn't half bad. Could surprise Steve, ask him to come swimming with me, and then have him come down to find me in the hot tub without any- "They're assembling the Avengers to speak about matters of SHIELD."</p><p>"Dang, so specific. Guess we better go downstairs, then. Sound good, Manchurian Candidate?"</p><p>I roll my eyes at the nickname, but give a small smile. "Sure."</p><p>As we walk to the elevator, Tony starts babbling about some robot he's working on. I tune it out, think about hot tubs and anal sex. Like you do. The elevator dings our arrival on the first floor of the Tower, and I see Steve give a beaming smile as I walk over to him. "Hey, baby! How was your tour?"</p><p>"Good," I reply, giving him a kiss on the cheek and letting him take my hand, pull me towards a meeting room where everyone else is waiting. "It was nice to get to know Tony a little bit."</p><p>Steve hums a cheerful response as we sit at the two empty chairs Clint saved for us. Tony chooses to stand, putting one leg up on his designated chair and resting an arm on his thigh. Just moments after we get settled in, an tall man with an eyepatch comes sweeping into the room, followed by an intimidating woman holding some device in her hands. Fury and Hill, or so I assume.</p><p>"The world is a mess," Fury declares, striding to the head of the table and looking over the small assembly of people before him. "Even after you all brought back the people we lost, many others were killed or displaced as a result of the Snap."</p><p>"Nice to see you too," Rhodey mumbles, at the same time that Tony snarks, "No need to be so optimistic, Nickerdoodle."</p><p>The Director ignores both men's comments, instead scanning his one eye over the Avengers. Hot damn, this guy is scary. "SHIELD was lost long before Thanos came around. However, we still need people to take charge, protect Earth from any further threats and clean up the messes we already have."</p><p>"Let me guess, you want that to be us?" Clint smirks, leaning back in his chair and raising an eyebrow. "Look, I'm all for helping out and shit, but I want to spend time with my family. I'm pretty sure that's all anyone wants to do."</p><p>"Not everyone has a family to spend time with anymore," Hill says, eyes still locked on the device in her hands.</p><p>Fury nods at his counterpart. "We need people to step up. I don't have Agents to work with, but I have you. And until I'm able to get a HYDRA-free SHIELD up and running again, I'm going to need you to help."</p><p>"No offense, pal, but I'm about to become a father. I'm not gonna jet off to save the world, no matter how much you want me to." Tony takes his leg off the chair and crosses his arms, leaning against a wall.</p><p>"Clint?"</p><p>The archer sighs, expression conflicted. "I want to help, I really do. But I need some time before I leave Laura and the kids, I just do. Ask me again in a month and we'll see."</p><p>"Well, I got nothing going on," Sam pipes up, "Although I'm not sure if you really want my help."</p><p>"I can go, too." Wanda looks determined, though I can see her grief below the surface. After Vision... I'm sure she's devastated. She needs this, she needs to do something to help out. She needs a purpose.</p><p>Rhodey reaches across the table to squeeze her hand before looking up at Fury. "I'll go. But expect me to bust my ass back here once my niece is born." Tony smiles at that, and Fury nods.</p><p>"That should be good, for now. Thor said he's busy in New Asgard, Ant-Man declined, and the Wakandans are already working on global aid. Tony, can you get Spider-Man-"</p><p>"No." His voice is harsh, final. "The kid needs a break, and a big one at that. You'd be an idiot to think I'd let you pull him into this shit."</p><p>"All right. Captain, Soldier? We'd like your help, too, if you're willing to give it."</p><p>Steve looks over at me, asking with his eyes if I want to leave. I open my mouth, before slowly responding, "Give us a minute to talk about it?"</p><p>"Of course."</p><p>I take Steve's hand as we walk out of the meeting room silently. "I... I don't think I can go," Steve says quietly, "But I want to. I want to help, I want to feel useful."</p><p>"Honey, I won't stop you from doing anything. I'll stick with you no matter where you go. But are you sure that taking up that shield again is the right thing for you?"</p><p>"...No," he admits, "But I still want to. I just- ever since I put on that damn gauntlet, I've done nothing. And it feels great to have a break, don't get me wrong, but I don't want to give up on my job."</p><p>I take his cheek in my hand, and look deeply into those beautiful blue eyes. "Steve, your job is to take care of yourself. You don't owe the world anything, not after you almost gave your life to save it. So what do you want to do?"</p><p>"I want to stay here. With you. I want to kiss you and cuddle you and take you on walks and stay up late watching the stars with you. I want to listen to you tell me about the Great Gatsby and hear you tease me about my cooking. I want to love you more than any man has ever been loved before, Bucky, because I've spent far too much time without you. And I don't want to fight when I have a chance to just... live."</p><p>"Then that's what we'll do."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. -Time-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve Rogers loves bagels. I don't really know why- I mean, they're just bread! But he loves them. So, because I'm the best person ever, I decided to go get him some bagels this morning.</p><p>The local businesses are still recovering from everything that's happened, obviously. But thanks to Natasha, the people who didn't snap received a lot of support afterwards and most have been able to reopen stores and whatnot. So, I spot a coffee shop with a large 'OPEN!' sign, and go inside.</p><p>It's empty, save for a middle aged man behind the counter. He smiles widely when I walk in, and we share a nice little conversation as I purchase a few bagels and coffee (and maybe some pound cake, too). I make my way back to the Tower, and watch the city wake up as I walk along cracked sidewalks.</p><p>Through the large glass doors that welcome me to Stark Tower, I spy a deserted lobby. Empty save for one woman, working busily on a computer. I walk past her to get to the elevator, my shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor. She turns towards the noise, and... shit.</p><p>"Um, Mr. Barnes?" I look at her with a feeble smile, and register shock on her lovely face.</p><p>Do I play dumb? Pretend I don't know who she is? Might as well. "Sorry, do I know you?"</p><p>"Oh, I guess you wouldn't..." she says, blonde hair falling into her face as she looks down. She pulls it back, however, and gives a very large, very fake smile. "I'm Sharon. Sharon Carter."</p><p>I laugh awkwardly. "Oh, ha, right. Yeah, I've... um, yeah, I've heard of you. I'm... Bucky."</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>We look at each other for a moment, and I can't keep my mind from whizzing through memories of when she dated Steve, when he had to text her and kiss her and- ew. I wince internally remembering those days, when we had to hide our love between fake heterosexual relationships and presumed death.</p><p>"Would, uh, you want to grab lunch today? I know we don't really know each other save from, you know, and you can feel free to say no, but... I think it would be nice to have a conversation. From what I've heard, you're a great guy, and I'd love to see what all the hype is about."</p><p>I look at her incredulously for a moment. This was definitely not where I expected this conversation to go. "Uh, yeah! That sounds great, actually! Would noon work? At that Italian place on 5th street?"</p><p>"See you then."</p><p>I bring the coffee and bagels up to Steve with a skip in my step. "What's got you excited?" he asks, taking a sip of his iced americano and putting down his sketchbook.</p><p>"I'm going out to lunch with Sharon Carter?" I say. He nearly chokes on his coffee, coughing as I look on in amusement.</p><p>"Um, wow, that's- wow." He looks at me, eyebrows furrowed, with slight panic in his expression. "That- when did- how? Why, uh-"</p><p>"We ran into each other in the lobby, and decided it would be nice to get to know each other. Given... everything."</p><p>Steve nods several times, still looking a little panicky. "Yeah, okay. Cool. Cool."</p><p>Noon comes sooner than expected, and I find myself sitting in a leather booth across from the woman I used to despise. "So, what have you been up to?" I ask pathetically, picking up my menu to avoid looking her in the eyes.</p><p>"Well, after SHIELD fell, I started working at the CIA. I... dated Steve, as you know, and then after he broke up with me I ended up moving to Berlin for work. Spent about eight months there before coming back to the States, when I met Daniel. Another CIA agent, one who was recruited while I was abroad. We started dating, and we actually got married only a week before the Snap."</p><p>"Wow, that's..." I'm happy for her, of course, but I can't help but feel relieved she isn't into Steve anymore. "That's fantastic! Were you..."</p><p>"Dusted? Yeah, me and Daniel both. That was a weird experience, tell you what. One second I'm making lasagna, the next some bitch is yelling and telling me to get out of her kitchen."</p><p>"So you were displaced?"</p><p>"Yeah," she says, taking a drink from her water glass, "Unfortunately. But since SHIELD is kind of a thing again now, Fury offered me and Daniel an apartment to stay in. Recruited us to help with global cleanup. We're leaving to go to Guatemala in about a week."</p><p>"That's incredible. I'm really glad you found Daniel, that you're happy."</p><p>She smiles at me. "Thanks. How about you? I know some of the story, but what's been happening with you and Steve?"</p><p>"Where to start... well, he brought me back to a safe house after he found me initially. And we just kind of stayed there for a while, and ended up getting feelings for one another. He started dating you to cover up for that..." I pause awkwardly, but she waves for me to go on. "He had to move to the Tower, then, and ended up spilling that I was alive and we were in love. So we went into hiding in a house in Maine, and then to Clint's farm. Then there was the whole thing with the Accords, and I went into cryofreeze, and then Thanos..."</p><p>"Did Steve really lose an arm? Maria said he did, but I saw him in the Tower the other day and he looked normal."</p><p>"Yeah, Dr. Cho used her cradle to give him a new one. For free, which was nice."</p><p>"I'm guessing saving the universe makes people pretty grateful."</p><p>"Guess so."</p><p>We pause for a moment, and I realize that this is nice. That I'm able to talk with her without any animosity, that things did actually end up working out for me and Steve. "Thank you," I say suddenly.</p><p>"For what?" She looks at me with an amused confusion.</p><p>"For suggesting this. For being so kind. For being considerate, not holding anything against me and Steve."</p><p>She sighs, setting down her menu and looking at me deeply. "Bucky, I won't lie to you, it hurt when Steve left me. Because I liked him a lot, and I thought that we had something really special. But when I heard why... how could I hold that against him? I knew my aunt, I knew what life was like back then. How there was such prejudice against gay people. I'm just glad that you two are able to live in a world where you can be openly together."</p><p>Tears prick my vision, and I sniff a little bit. "Jesus, Sharon, that's so sweet. I- thank you. It kinda feels like you took a weight off my shoulders I didn't know I had."</p><p>"I'm glad."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. -Control-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I get Sharon's number after we finish lunch, and promise to call and arrange something like this again. Driving back to the Tower brings a smile to my face, a cheerful song playing on the radio reflecting the contentment I feel. Loose ends tied up. It feels nice.</p><p>Steve is usually in our room, which is understandable. He still needs prompting to go do stuff, but I'm sure that as he adjusts to all this radical change that's rocked his world, he'll be able to have more initiative. I open up the door and see him napping on the couch, which makes me grin. God, he's adorable.</p><p>I quietly close the door and walk over, sitting lightly on the part of the couch he isn't taking up. I run my hand along his side, which is slowly rising and falling as he breathes. His face is beautiful, serene. I'm happy to just watch it for a little while, before getting up to take off my coat and shoes.</p><p>I hear him stir while my back is turned, and do his typical waking up groan. "Time's it?" he says with a yawn, and I turn to look at his sleepy face fondly.</p><p>"It's about one thirty, hon. Did you sleep well?"</p><p>He nods and plops back down onto the couch, grabbing a pillow to cuddle. I sit next to him and take it away, teasing him, "I'm offended, Stevie, you'd choose a pillow over me?"</p><p>"Never." At which point he practically throws himself into my arms, nuzzling into my neck and sighing happily. "How was your lunch?"</p><p>I kiss his head and start to rub his back, feel him relax in my arms. "Good. Really good, actually. She was super nice, told me all about her husband and asked about us. I think we should have her over for dinner sometime, meet Daniel and let the two of you talk as well."</p><p>"Sounds great, baby. I'm so glad that went well. I won't lie, I was nervous."</p><p>A cheap little laugh escapes me. "Yeah, me too."</p><p>We just lie there for a while. I expect Steve to drift back to sleep, but he actually becomes more alert. "Oh, Buck, I forgot to tell you. I was listening to this song that Clint recommended, I guess everyone knows it, but I liked it a lot. You should listen to it."</p><p>"Have FRIDAY play it," I mumble, face buried in his shoulder. He laughs but does, and I hear the beginning notes begin to flood the room from speakers in the walls and ceiling. Steve begins to move, and I look at him, surprised, as he stands and faces me. "Steve, what are-"</p><p>"C'mon, baby, dance with me!" I roll my eyes but accept his outstretched hand, let him pull me against his body and sway me to the beat. "Put your head on my shoulder..." he sings, off key as hell, "hold me in your arms... BABY-" I laugh at the ridiculous voice he uses to sing that word, and he stops singing to giggle too.</p><p>"I love your singing, Stevie," I say, not teasing whatsoever. He looks in my eyes for deceit, but finds nothing but pure adoration.</p><p>"Really? I can't hold a tune for my life!"</p><p>I press a tiny little kiss to his mouth and honestly say, "That's why I love it. You sing because you want to, not because you're good at it. And that's exactly as it should be."</p><p>We just rock back and forth to the song after that, and I do, ironically enough, put my head on his shoulder. He tightens his hold on my waist, and continues to sway me gently. We're not dancing, not really. It's just a glorified hug. But goddamn, is it a nice hug. </p><p>The song ends, but Steve keeps me close when I try to pull away. "FRIDAY, keep the music going!"</p><p>"Of course, Captain."</p><p>The next song is more up tempo, and I grip Steve's hand and put the other on his waist, taking the lead. He gladly lets me, putting a hand on my shoulder and moving where I lead us. "Leave room for Jesus, James!" he teases when I bring him a little closer to me. I roughly grab his ass in response, earning a booming laugh from him.</p><p>I put my hands in a more polite place and go back to just dancing, pulling him around the living room in time to the music. "I love you," he says simply, looking at me happily.</p><p>"I love you too." I kiss him slowly, continuing to sway him until the song ends. The next one is slow, loving, and makes me want to keep kissing him. And then maybe some more.</p><p>I thread my fingers through his hair, and put my other hand on his lower back. His arms wrap around my neck, encouraging this rapidly intensifying kiss. I have to pull away for air after a moment, but he swiftly pulls me back against his soft lips. Not that I'm complaining.</p><p>I run my hands along his sides, open my mouth and feel his hot breath fill it. When his hands start roaming down my back, along my ass, my excitement starts manifesting itself in a more physical way. And then he pulls away suddenly.</p><p>"Steve, what-?"</p><p>"Sorry, but I love this song! It needs my attention!" I look at him with disbelief.</p><p>"Can it have your attention while I pound you into the mattress?"</p><p>He gives me a dry look. "No, then I wouldn't be giving it my attention."</p><p>"Well, Stevie, I've got something right here that kind of wants your-"</p><p>"Don't even finish that sentence." He looks up at the ceiling and listens to the song play, but I can see a little twinkle in his eye. Oh, Steve, you little shit.</p><p>"You tryin' to make me work for it, Rogers?" I ask, sauntering towards him, "You playin' hard hard to get?"</p><p>He gives an innocent look. "I have no clue what you're talking about. I'm just listening to the song."</p><p>"You don't even know this song, do you. No, you're just tryin' to rile me up. Well, Stevie, you already have," I say, gesturing to my lower region, "And I'm about ready to do you just how you like it."</p><p>"What if I wanna do you, this time?" he asks. I raise an eyebrow at that, and he smirks. "You willing to give up the control?"</p><p>"With you? Always. If that's what you really want..." I trail off expectantly, and he surges forward to kiss me again. My back hits the wall and he presses me against it, pinning my arms above my head in a new but not unwelcome move. I gasp as he grabs me unexpectedly down there, and throw my head back, exposing my neck. He begins kissing it, still t-</p><p>"Mr. Stark would like everyone to know that, quote, 'I'm about to be a dad, bitches! Come down to the medbay or I'll have FRIDAY make all your showers ice cold for the next week!' end quote. I would strongly suggest you leave your rooms, as I do not think he is bluffing."</p><p>Steve groans, and lets go of my wrists. Morgan Stark, someday I'll tell you the story of how the first thing you did in your life was cockblock me. But hey, we get to see a baby!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. -Broken-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Should I wear a tie?" I ask Steve nervously, "This is gonna be the first time she sees me, I want to make a good impression..."</p><p>He smiles and kisses my forehead, smoothing out the worried lines collected there with the simple gesture. "Baby, that's so sweet, but Morgan is never going to remember anything about this day. Let's just get to the med bay before Tony throws a fit."</p><p>The rest of the Avengers are assembled outside the doors to the med bay, anxiously chatting and excitedly waiting to meet their new niece. Rhodey in particular is openly crying onto Happy Hogan's shoulder. "Rhodes, what's going on?" Steve asks, concerned, the moment we join the little group.</p><p>"I just can't believe he's gonna be a dad..." the colonel sobs, as Happy uncomfortably rubs his back, "I mean, he's been through so much, and I never thought he would settle down, much less with someone as great as Pepper..."</p><p>Steve smiles knowingly and takes my hand, leading me to sit down next to Clint on some of the plastic chairs in the waiting room. "Were you like that when your kids were born?" Steve asks.</p><p>Clint snorts. "Worse. I almost fainted when they gave Laura the epidural."</p><p>Time passes slowly as we wait for the baby to be born. Eventually Rhodey stops crying, resorting to pacing around and stressing the rest of us out. That is, until FRIDAY announces, "Mr. and Mrs. Stark are ready for you to meet her."</p><p>Rhodey practically sprints through the frosted glass doors, and everyone else silently agrees to wait a while before following. After about five minutes, Clint stands up, gesturing for Steve to follow. Bruce gets up, too, and the three of them start heading inside.</p><p>"Buck, you comin'?" Steve asks.</p><p>I look at him oddly. "Why would I? I mean, it's Stark's baby."</p><p>"Come on, Buck. It's okay, I promise." Bruce and Clint nod their approval of the sentiment, and I tentatively follow the men inside, holding onto Steve's arm for support.</p><p>We stand outside the open door to Pepper's room, waiting until her voice softly calls out, "Come in!" Tony is holding his wife's hand, looking on fondly as Rhodey holds his daughter. "Hey, guys, meet Morgan!"</p><p>Bruce is the first to scurry up, making a cute little face as he watches the baby sleep. "Hey, Morgan, I'm Uncle Bruce. I'm gonna play with you and cuddle you and hold you..."</p><p>"Do you want to hold her?" Rhodey asks reluctantly, looking like he would rather sell his soul to the devil than let someone else hold the baby.</p><p>Bruce notices this, and smiles. "No, I'm good. I think she likes you a lot better."</p><p>"Yeah? Yeah, I think so too."</p><p>"Any complications with the delivery?" Clint asks Pepper, going over to sit next to her bed.</p><p>She shakes her head, exhausted, as Tony brushes her hair away from her face. "No, she did her best to make it easy on me. Or, at least, as easy as labor can be."</p><p>"Isn't she just perfect?" Tony asks, looking fondly at Morgan, "I think she's perfect. I mean, look at her toes! They're so small! And her little nose, it's just adorable-" He's interrupted by Morgan's crying, the little girl having woken up. "Oh, honey, it's okay," Tony coos as he takes her from Rhodey, "Oh, oh. Shh."</p><p>I'm amazed by how good Tony is with his daughter. I've heard Steve say lots of colorful things about the man, but he reflects none of them in these gentle interactions. I smile at the sight of the father and daughter, squeeze Steve's hand. I'm glad I came along on this mission.</p><p>"Can I hold her?" Steve asks, once Morgan has stopped crying and is sitting serenely in her dad's arms. Tony nods, and hands over the little bundle to the Captain. I see Steve's eyes light up as Morgan looks up at him, and he bounces her a little. "So pretty," he murmurs, "Such a pretty baby. Aren't you a pretty baby?"</p><p>I've never seen Steve with kids before, not since before the war. Would he want...? Seeing him look at Morgan like that, I wonder if he would want to start a family with me. Which makes me wonder if I would want to start a family at all.</p><p>I don't end up holding the baby at all, content to just stay in the soft energy her birth had brought. We leave after about ten minutes, to let everyone else have a turn ogling the little bundle of joy. Steve takes my hand as we walk silently to our room.</p><p>I wonder if I should bring up the idea of kids to him. I'm just not sure... because deep down, I know I don't want them. After everything I did- after everything the Winter Soldier did to children, the idea of having my own sickens me. I know that wasn't me, but my hands still carried out the deeds. My mind still remembers the violence.</p><p>Steve would be a good father, I know he would. He was far more happy holding that baby than he has been in a while. But I... I don't think I would be able to have a kid, I'm too damaged. Too broken. I'm not going to pass on everything I've done wrong to an innocent child.</p><p>So I won't bring this up to Steve, not unless he brings it up first. And if he does, I'll-</p><p>"Buck?" He turns to me, stopping in the middle of the hallway with a strained look on his face. "I... can we talk?"</p><p>Ah, shit, what did I do? "Sure, honey, what about?"</p><p>"Um... so the baby... would you ever... want one?"</p><p>Shit shit shit. Shit shit. Shit. "Uh..."</p><p>"Because if you did," he says, wringing his hands, "I would, um, I would support you. I mean, I would understand and- you know, I just-"</p><p>"Wait a minute, do you want kids?" I interject, questioning my previous logic.</p><p>"Not... really."</p><p>Oh, thank God. I sigh, relieved, and feel anxiety melt away from my shoulders. "Good, me neither."</p><p>"Really?" he asks incredulously, "But you looked so happy around the baby! And I know you'd be a great dad, anyone can see that."</p><p>I squint at him. "Me? A great dad? Steve, you're the one who would be that. You were so good with Morgan, you'd be great with a baby of your own-"</p><p>"Yeah, but you'd be really good at the 'dad talks'. You know? You're so wise, you'd be a great-"</p><p>"Don't underestimate yourself. You're brilliant, Stevie, always have been. I'm sure any child would be lucky to have your genes."</p><p>We just look at each other for an uncomfortable moment. Steve clears his throat. "But I don't want kids. And neither do you. So that doesn't really matter."</p><p>"Right." A pause. "Why don't you?"</p><p>"I just..." He looks away from me, eyes grazing the large glass window to the side of us. "I'm broken, Buck. After everything that's happened, after Thanos and Natasha and... I just don't think I'd be able to raise a child."</p><p>I step forward to take his hands in mine, and give a bittersweet smile. "Me neither. And that's okay. I've got you, and honestly, that's all I need. We can heal together, we don't need to add anything else."</p><p>"Okay."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. -Good-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Infinity Stones had to be returned, according to Bruce. Which was fine by me, I wanted those little turds as far away from me as possible. We were all meeting to decide who was returning them, and Steve was meeting me there after his morning run with Sam. All good. All great.</p><p>Or at least, I thought it would be.</p><p>I made my way there without a hitch. Grabbed a donut. Ate the donut. Grabbed a donut. Ate the donut. Grabbed a donut. Got a weird look from Wanda. Gave the donut to Steve. Normal.</p><p>I expected the meeting to be short, at least for me and Steve. Obviously, we wouldn't be the ones to return the stones, not with our history with them. So I just planned on eating the snacks and leaving early, as God intended. It didn't work out that way.</p><p>Bruce started talking about the importance of returning the stones to their exact time and place, how we couldn't mess anything up in the timeline. I ignored him, sipped my coffee and leaned back against Steve's chest. Waited for this to be over so we could leave.</p><p>And then Steve volunteered to be the one to return them.</p><p>"What?" I say, leaning forward and turning to face him.</p><p>Steve looks slightly uncomfortable, as does everyone else in the room. "Well... I don't mind. And it would be nice to, uh, see the past again?" He's cowering under my death glare, as he should.</p><p>"Maybe we should break apart to discuss who's returning the stones-" Tony says placatingly, but I interrupt him.</p><p>"No, I wanna hear why Steve wants to risk his life for no good reason! C'mon, Stevie, do share your logic with us." I'm trying to stay calm, but my fear about losing him makes every word come out scathing.</p><p>"Yeah, I'm gonna..." Bruce stands up and leaves, spurring everyone else in the room to follow. In an instant it's just Steve and I left, staring at each other.</p><p>"Bucky, I don't know why you're making this into such a big deal."</p><p>"Why I'm- Steve, the stones almost killed you! And you're acting like it's crazy that I don't want you handling them again?"</p><p>He stands up and crosses his arms, eyebrows scrunching together. "Oh, so you don't think I can handle myself?"</p><p>"That's not relevant, Steve, because I don't want you to put yourself in danger!"</p><p>"I'm an adult! I can make my own choices!" he suddenly yells, making me stand as well. "Why are you so hell bent on keeping me from doing this?"</p><p>I look at him incredulously. "I don't know, Steve, why are you so hell bent on doing this? And how is it bad for me to want you to be safe?"</p><p>"You don't want me to be safe, you want me to be caged. So excuse me for wanting to make my own choices."</p><p>"I-" I open my mouth and let out a small noise, amazed by how horrible his words are. "Wow, Steve. Speaking as someone who spent seventy fucking years being controlled, I think I can confidently say that you you aren't being 'caged'."</p><p>"Oh, don't pull out the HYDRA shit. That's not-"</p><p>"Well, Steve, it happened! We might not talk about it very much anymore, but it happened!  And I'm sorry, but the idea that I'm 'holding you back' by trying to keep you safe is complete and utter bullshit."</p><p>He just looks at me for a moment before rolling his eyes. "You can't keep me from doing this, Bucky. You aren't in charge of me."</p><p>"You're right, I can't. But I can express my concern, can't I? I can try to talk you out of it? Or is that unfair to you, too?"</p><p>"Stop acting like I'm being unreasonable-"</p><p>"Well, you are! You're acting like a child for no good reason!" My irritation breaks through into my tone, making my words sound harsher than I want them to.</p><p>"It's not crazy for me to want to help out!"</p><p>"Steve-"</p><p>"Why do you have to hold me back? Why can't you just support me?" He's really yelling now, and to be honest, it's a little scary. "Hate to say it, but I can't just sit around on my ass all day, not when I have the ability to save the world!"</p><p>"You're not-"</p><p>"Everyone else is working their ass of to fix things, and I'm doing nothing! If I can't help other people, then what am I? I'm worthless, that's what I am, and I need to do this! You need to let me do this!" He's breathing heavily after his rant, and I see the beginnings of tears brewing in his eyes. Oh, my Stevie.</p><p>"Honey," I say softly, "You are not worthless. You have done more than enough to earn your rest."</p><p>"It doesn't feel like I have," he says, voice giving way to body-shaking sobs on the last word. I rush forward to hold him, and his arms squeeze me tightly as he cries. "I just wanna be useful, I just wanna do something good..."</p><p>"You don't have to do something good to be someone good. Sometimes, it's alright to just live when the world has kept you an arm's length away from joy for so long. We've earned this rest, darling. We've fought and bled and died for this rest, and we've earned it."</p><p>He just keeps crying at that, letting me hold him and rub soothing circles on his upper back. Eventually, the tears stop, and he pulls away. I wipe away my own sorrow and look at him, run a thumb along his cheek and jaw.</p><p>"I think we need to put some distance between us and all the action," I say, "Just have some time alone for a while. Maybe... if you want... we could go to Maine? I'd love to see all your renovations..."</p><p>He lets out a shuddering sigh before biting his lower lip. "I put in a new counter in the kitchen. It looks really nice with the cabinets."</p><p>"Is that a yes?" I ask with a smile that lives mostly in my eyes.</p><p>"Yeah," he replies softly, "That's a yes."</p><p>I kiss his forehead gently, wipe away the remaining tears on his face. "Thank you," he whispers, "I... thank you."</p><p>I pull away and look at him, see shame and love in his face. "I didn't like it when you yelled at me. I don't like having to guess what's going on in that pretty head of yours. But I will always love you, even when you're acting irrational."</p><p>"I love you too. So, so much. I'm sorry that I yelled at you."</p><p>"I forgive you," I say easily, kissing him quickly. "Always will. Now, c'mon, we gotta pack!"</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. -Karma-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Are you sure you don't want to stay?" Laura asks, looking at me pleadingly, "The boys are gonna miss their two favorite uncles, and Lila has really hoped that Steve would give her some drawing lessons like he did for Cooper..."</p><p>I look at her sympathetically and pull her into a good natured hug. "Aw, sorry Laura. We really do. We'll be sure to visit lots, though, and any Barton is always welcome at our house."</p><p>"Good. You'll have to come back for Morgan's baptism, Rhodey is going to be the godfather and he's already very involved in the role. If you don't make it, he might shank you."</p><p>"I'll keep that in mind." I look for Steve, and spot him saying goodbye to the Starks. I walk over, and smile at the little girl resting in her mother's arms. "Hey, Morgan!" I coo, completely ignoring the adults around. I run a finger on her soft cheek, and pull back to begrudgingly greet her parents. "Hi, Pepper, Tony. Or bye, I guess."</p><p>Pepper smiles at me. "We're going to miss you two. Be sure to visit, yeah?"</p><p>"Of course," Steve's deep voice answers, and he slings an arm around my waist. "And you all are always free to come over to our place. I know Buck would jump at the opportunity to cook for anyone other than me." I chuckle my agreement, and he kisses the top of my head.</p><p>We make our rounds, saying goodbye to every member of our mismatched and wonderful family. After about a half hour of loud conversation and dirty jokes, Steve and I are sitting in a car that's silent save for the Frank Sinatra wafting out of the radio.</p><p>I hear him sigh to my right, and I take my eyes off the road to throw a concerned glance. "What's up, Stevie?"</p><p>"Are you sure this is the right decision?" he asks, looking at me doubtfully, "What if instead of taking a break from all the responsibility, I just feel like I'm shirking my duties even more? What if there's an emergency and I'm not there to help? What if-?"</p><p>"Honey," I interrupt, "You can't help others if you haven't helped yourself first. I promise, this is the right thing for us. Remember how happy we were in Maine? You painting, me working on my classes... well, before I quit them. We were good. And things aren't gonna be the same, they never can be, but we can find a new kind of happy there. Steve, we're going to be okay."</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>After about three hours of driving, we stop for lunch at some dinky little restaurant off the highway. I grin at Steve across from the dirty linoleum table on our booth. "This place is fucking nasty," I whisper, and he bobs his head in agreement.</p><p>"Do you wanna leave?"</p><p>"Nah, I have a strong stomach. Let's see what they've got."</p><p>We each order a simple cheeseburger and fries, afraid to ask for more food in case it's laced with rat poison or something. We joke about the odd décor, pointing out the weird middle school horse girl paintings on the paneled walls and the inexplicable plastic plants scattered around the establishment.</p><p>Although this place is radiating "front for a secret society of white supremacist plastic baby worshipping cult members" vibes, I can't help but like it. Our food arrives fairly quickly, and it actually doesn't look half bad. I dig in, earning an amazed look from Steve. "You aren't afraid it's raw or something?" </p><p>"Eh," I shrug. "Doesn't taste too bad. Plus, I'm a supersoldier. I'll be fine."</p><p>Amused, Steve rolls his eyes. "Fair enough." He takes a massive bite and proceeds to choke.</p><p>Though I know I should probably help him, I just laugh. Which then makes me choke as well. I cough violently, try to dislodge the greasy little piece of bread from my throat, as Steve drinks some water and recovers. "Fucking karma!" he whisper yells, pointing at me as I cough.</p><p>The waitress comes over quickly, apprehensive anxiety lightly sketched onto her soft features. "Everything okay over here?" she asks, and I give a thumbs up as I continue to hack up my food. </p><p>"We're good, thank you," Steve laughs, hardly able to get the words out through his giggles. Smiling lightly, she leaves, making Steve laugh even harder. "You good, baby?"</p><p>"Yeah," I say hoarsely, drinking water and rolling my eyes, "I'm fine. Jesus, this place is weird."</p><p>"Wanna leave?"</p><p>"Are you kidding me? Let's get dessert!"</p><p>One apple pie later, we're in the car again. Steve takes over the wheel, starting the engine and backing out of parking spot. "Alright, four more hours. Any requests for music?"</p><p>"You're driving, you pick."</p><p>He raises an eyebrow, and I can't help but feel slightly uneasy. "Are you sure about that?"</p><p>"...no?" He laughs, and stops the car before pressing a few buttons on his phone. As music starts playing, I groan loudly. "Taylor Swift? Really? I never took you for a fan."</p><p>"Hey, you missed a whole album during those five months you were- I guess she used songwriting as a coping mechanism. It's absolute trash, too."</p><p>"Alright, I guess."</p><p>We viciously make fun of the pop songs while silently loving them for an hour, listening to every song on the album and giggling. I switch it to soft jazz after that, and our loud laughs and jokes turn into a quiet contentment. "I'm looking forward to this move," I muse, "Getting to see the house again. I feel like it's been forever."</p><p>"Yeah..." I can tell that he doesn't feel the same, but is holding it together for my sake. "Yeah. It should- I'm not even gonna try to fake it, I'm not looking forward to this."</p><p>"I know. But hon, I don't think it's very helpful for you to be in an environment like the Tower right now, not when you're already stressed and- and having a hard time. If you want to go back to... shit, I feel awful for forcing you to go here, I really do, but I just can't let you stay in a place that-"</p><p>"It's okay. It'll... we'll be okay. Right? We're together, and that means that things have to work out." He smiles at me, all nerves and beauty, and I'm shocked as love hits me like a train, tears welling as I remember just how wonderful Steve Rogers is.</p><p>"Of course they will." And with a smile on my face, tears in my eyes, and the love of my goddamn existence sitting next to me, I believe every word.</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. -Light-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve is an incredible person. Truly, he is.</p><p>Sometimes the situations we get put in, the shit we have to go through, it distracts me. Makes me forget how much I love him. Or, not so much forget as put aside. Kind of hard to nurture a flourishing romance when the world is burning down and your lover is burning along with it.</p><p>But God, he's amazing. Smart, of course, and talented in some many fields. But he's kind, too, and even when he's dying inside and out he can put others first. Beautiful and strong, and so very trusting when he needs to be.</p><p>This is what I'm thinking of as I see him pick up a paintbrush, gaze at the canvas I bought him in hopes that he'd use it.</p><p>"I dunno, Buck..."</p><p>"What don't you know?" I ask, propping my head on my hands, "You're an artist. And sure, it's been a while, but even if a five year old could rival your talent you'd still be one."</p><p>He sighs and sets down the brush. "That's not- I- the reason I gave up painting and drawing was- it wasn't because I didn't think I could do it. It... I did it to much. I painted what was inside my head and my art got darker and darker and then a little darker after that and I just kept doing it, I kept going until it got so dark that I scared myself and stopped. And, baby, I don't know if it's safe enough in my head to put all that shit on a canvas."</p><p>Shit, that's a lot. How do I... "Okay. Okay, thank you for telling me that. Maybe... how about you just paint me? Or draw, or- or whatever you want. That's- you don't have to go deep in your head to find inspiration, you can just look at me. Paint the good things that are surrounding you."</p><p>He considers my words for a moment, nodding faintly. "Okay."</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"Yeah," he repeats more confidently, picking up the brush again. "Thank you. Thank you. Would you mind posing for me, darlin'?"</p><p>I smirk at him. "Are we thinking Titanic or Mona Lisa?"</p><p>"Mmm..." He pretends to consider it before grinning back. "Your choice."</p><p>I stand up and dramatically take off my sweater, earning a hoot from him. I throw a flirtatious look his way as I toss it at him, and laugh when he catches it and buries his face is the soft fabric. Left in a plain T-shirt and jeans, I plop back down on the couch and strike a pose. He snorts at the sight and lays my sweater on the back of his chair, turning more serious as he starts to pick out colors. My smile fades a little, too, and I sit up in a more normal position for him to paint me.</p><p>I've been a model for Steve before, so I know how it goes. I like to watch the concentration on his face as he works, and my heart always flutters when that concentration caresses my form with scrutinizing eyes. It's an exhilarating vulnerability, giving myself to him and letting him immortalize me in art.</p><p>We break for lunch at about one. "Want a sandwich?" Steve asks, setting down his brush and smiling at me.</p><p>"Yeah, sure. Do we have Nutella?"</p><p>"Think so. I'll go make it for you." He comes over to kiss my cheek before going into the kitchen. I watch him leave happily, and lie down on the couch.</p><p>Steve always insists on making me food when I do this for him, says he feels bad that I just have to sit there for hours on end. I let him do it for me, mostly because it is actually really boring and I like being waited on sometimes. After a few minutes, he comes back in with a silver fucking platter and dramatically offers it to me. I accept gratefully.</p><p>"Damn, Steve, this is classy," I snort, picking up the peanut butter, banana, and Nutella sandwich he has lovingly prepared. He winks and goes back in the kitchen, grabbing the peanut butter and jelly he made for himself. "Can I see what you have so far?"</p><p>"No way! You only get to see it when it's done."</p><p>"Alright, alright." We sit and eat in silence, until Steve perks up suddenly.</p><p>"Oh, I almost forgot! I finished your body, so you can read or be on your phone or whatever."</p><p>I nod. "Cool. I'll go grab a book."</p><p>"I can get it for you, what do you want?"</p><p>"Mmm... Gatsby?"</p><p>"On it." I clean up our lunch as he races upstairs, and I feel hands wrap around my waist as I rise off the plates. "Book's on the couch, baby. Thanks for washing those."</p><p>"No problem." He kisses the back of my neck as he holds me tightly, and I can't help but smile at the fluttering in my heart that never seems to go away. "You ready to go back to work, Da Vinci?"</p><p>"If you are."</p><p>So I go back to the couch, and he picks up where he left off. I'm glad I get to read now, as much as I like watching him work. The Great Gatsby is one of my favorite books, mostly because it takes place in the years of my childhood.</p><p>In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since...</p><p>I turn page after page, envelop myself in the world of New York in the Roaring 20s. While this story takes place in wealth and extravagance I never got to experience, it still makes me feel like I'm back to chasing stray dogs with Steve in Brooklyn when we were too young to think about things like poverty.</p><p>I'm about halfway through the book when I hear his signature "I'm satisfied with how this painting turned out even though I always feel like it could be better" sigh. I finish the paragraph and mark my page, look up to see him watching me. "You done, hon?"</p><p>He rolls his eyes at the rhyme, but his eyes crinkle into a smile that warms me from the inside out. "Yep. Wanna see?"</p><p>I scamper off the couch and stand behind him, wrap my arms around his shoulders and look at the canvas. A breath tears away from me, awe overtaking my mind.</p><p>It's a masterpiece, as all his paintings are. I'm sitting in a relaxed position, the entire background of the painting a deep black, darker than midnight with a new moon. But I'm radiating a soft light, brightening the center of the painting. And just smiling. I mirror my painted self's expression, and shake my head in amazement.</p><p>"This is incredible, Steve. Truly. God, I'm so proud of you."</p><p>He turns to look at me. "Thank you for making me paint again. Thank you for making my dark days lighter."</p><p>Tears prick my vision at that, and I press a lingering kiss to his mouth. It's the only way I can think to articulate the love I feel burning through me. Any light I have comes from a fire he lights inside me. I hope someday he realizes that the joy I bring Steve stems from his own actions.</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. -Rhapsodize-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I've got an idea. It's been brewing for a while, but I think it's high time to act on it.</p><p>We've never really established any... labels, I suppose. We grew up in a time where loving another man was a crime punishable by death, and the kind of conditioning we were subject to in our childhoods took many years to overcome. During that time, we never really called ourselves anything but "in love".</p><p>I think I want to change that.</p><p>Maybe it's a big step, maybe Steve isn't ready for it. I'm pretty sure he is, though, and I know that I am. I'm ready to call him mine by the laws of the heart and of the world, ready to have something solid to show that we are not able to be separated. I want to marry this man.</p><p>I don't think he would want a big wedding. Neither of our parents got one, neither of us is really a big fan of the idea of spending thousands of dollars on a party. But that doesn't mean I don't want some sort of occasion- it's always nice to be the center of attention once in a while.</p><p>Life right now is a kind of calm I could spend years living in. We've settled into a routine, one filled with hikes and day trips and weekends in New York about once a month. We call our family plenty, and let them stay over whenever they want. We're happy, an achievement I'm still waiting to go sour. But a part of me knows that this is real. This is permanent. And I'm glad.</p><p>But change is always nice, and I want to get married. So one afternoon, I offer to go grocery shopping while Steve is working out, knowing that he won't want to come along. And I make a pit stop.</p><p>I push open the door to the jeweler's, feeling slightly nervous for some reason. The woman behind the counter gives me a warm smile, and I wave awkwardly. "Uh, hi. I need a ring? For proposing?"</p><p>"Well, we have those," she teases gently, "What are you looking for?"</p><p>"Uh..." </p><p>She seems to notice my complete lack of ideas, and puts on an air of professional expertise. "There's a lot of different options, I know, so why don't you tell me about the lucky lady? What's she like?"</p><p>"He's, um, he's wonderful. Artistic, and selfless, and kind..."</p><p>Her eyes widen in shame when she realizes she assumed Steve was female, but she collects herself before saying, "That's great. But more specifically, what kind of ring do you think he would like? More simple, or maybe engraved?"</p><p>"Oh! I think he'd want something really plain, he wouldn't want anything too gaudy."</p><p>"Well, we have some plain ones over on the right here, if you want to take a look..."</p><p>After about twenty minutes of back and forth, I've landed on a simple silver band I think Steve will like. The woman puts it in a box for me, and I thank her profusely before heading back to my car. One stop to the grocery store later, I'm unloading the brown paper bags at home with Steve.</p><p>"Thanks for getting these, Buck."</p><p>"No problem! I got stuff for lasagna, too, I know you like that new recipe."</p><p>He kisses my cheek before reaching past me to put away the milk. "Thank you, babe. You're the best."</p><p>"Yeah, I know." He rolls his eyes and slaps my ass with a bag of baby carrots, earning an outraged gasp on my part. "Steven Grant Rogers! How rude!"</p><p>He just winks, continuing to put away the groceries.</p><p>Three days later, I'm still holding onto the ring and stressing over how I should give it to him. That day I got it, there wasn't a good opportunity. And yesterday, Wanda stopped by, so we were too busy. Last night he had a really bad nightmare, so I probably shouldn't make a big romantic gesture today.</p><p>Then again, maybe I shouldn't make a big romantic gesture at all.</p><p>It's a quiet afternoon. I went for a walk alone on the beach while Steve did some reading. Coming back, I decide that it's time. So I walk up the stairs, avoiding the creaky steps, and stand in the doorway of a bedroom shrouded in natural light.</p><p>He's lying on his stomach, eyebrows furrowed in that concentrated look he always wears while reading. His hair is a mess- he must've been running his hands through it without realizing. Completely enveloped in his book, he scratches the side of his stomach without taking his eyes off the page, having to roll over a little on our bed to reach the itchy spot.</p><p>He's beautiful.</p><p>I knock lightly on the doorframe, drawing his attention. He smiles when he sees me, and sits up. Beckoned by him patting the bedspread, I go sit next to him with my legs crossed. "How was your walk?"</p><p>"Good. How's the book?"</p><p>"Amazing. I'm so glad Laura recommended this series to me, the writing is amazing and the story is so fucking good, I literally can't stop reading..."</p><p>I listen to him ramble, watch those lovely features contort in excitement and admire those hands wildly articulating his words. "I'm glad," I say quietly, so very set on keeping this man as my own forever and ever.</p><p>"You okay?" he says curiously, "You sound kind of... off."</p><p>A warm smile overtakes me, and I kiss his hand gently. "I'm more than okay, Stevie. I... well, I wanted to ask you a question."</p><p>"Shoot." </p><p>I reach into my back pocket and pull out the box, opening it and letting him look at the ring. His face is blank for a moment, emotionless until it crinkles into that signature smile. "Is this for me, baby?"</p><p>"If you want it."</p><p>He rolls his eyes and stands up, pulling me off the bed and standing me in front of him on the hardwood floor. "Steve, what-"</p><p>"If you're gonna propose, do it like you mean it, dipshit. C'mon, I wanna hear you pour your heart out. Rhapsodize, motherfucker!"</p><p>I snort and drop on one knee per his request, and give a look of pure adoration. "Steve... Steve. You're... okay, I guess." He chuckles as I continue, "I like some things about you, even though you're an annoying little shit most of the time." He nods tearfully, and I restrain a smile. "So, will you marry me, or whatever?"</p><p>"Yeah, sure, why not." He pulls me to my feet and kisses me deeply, taking my breath away. I pull back and put the ring on his finger, smile at it. Because it's exactly right. And when he kisses me again, I know that that's right, too.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. -Epilogue-</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I straighten my tie in the mirror and give myself another one over. Looking good, Buck, I think to myself, and smile a little. Guess I ought to go check on Laura and the kids.</p><p>Lila is spinning around in the blue dress she got for the occasion, while Laura tries to get Nate back into his tie. The boy somehow managed to loosen it, and his mother is clearly loosing her patience with him. "Nathaniel Pietro Barton, you come here right now," she snaps, though her face softens when she sees me approach. "Oh, hi, Bucky. You look great."</p><p>"He doesn't need to wear his tie," I reply, picking up the little boy when he runs towards me. Cooper shyly joins, as does Lila when she stops twirling long enough to see that I'm here. "They're pretty uncomfortable, huh, bud?"</p><p>Both of the Barton sons nod, and I laugh. Laura smiles at the sight and comes over, hugging me from the side. "You ready?" she asks.</p><p>"Yes," I say, nodding definitively, "Very. We still waiting on anyone?"</p><p>"I think you were the last person to get ready."</p><p>"Well, what are we waiting for, then! Let's get this show on the road!"</p><p>Laura takes my hand as we walk down the stairs of the Barton farmhouse, and I make sure she doesn't fall as she texts Pepper to say that we're ready to go. Cooper tries to run outside when we reach the front door, but Laura grabs his arm. "Not yet, honey."</p><p>Once she gets the text back from Pepper, we step outside and join the back of a line of people. Sam turns around and winks, letting go of Wanda's hand to reach his out for a high five. I laugh lightly and accept, slapping his palm before he takes it back and turns around.</p><p>Light piano music starts playing, courtesy of the pianist Pepper hired. She really was a lifesaver in the planning process. I crane my head and smile when I see Tony and Steve step out from their little tent at the front of the aisle, openly laugh when Steve catches my gaze and makes a ridiculous face.</p><p>Little Morgan is the first to walk down the aisle, one chubby fist holding a basket of flower petals and the other holding her mom's hand. Even at one year of life, the girl has her father's spirit, refusing to decorate the aisle and leaving Pepper to throw the petals for her. The small group of people filling the seats coo and giggle at the sight.</p><p>Next is Clint, our best man. He holds a bouquet of daisies that should've been held by Natasha, and solemnly sets them down on the chair we saved for that fiery redhead before taking his own seat. Sam and Wanda follow, much more jovial as they wink and wave at the wedding guests.</p><p>Finally it's my turn, and Laura squeezes my hand as everyone stands. We start walking- Nate resting against my hip with arms wrapped around my neck, Cooper and Laura holding my hands, Lila holding her mom's. Steve beams, practically glowing, and kisses Laura's cheek before taking my hand from hers. We all laugh as Nate refuses to let go of me, needing to be pried off by Clint, who scurries over to help.</p><p>"Alright, let's get this party started," Tony says loudly, earning a chuckle from me and an eye roll from Steve. I think we made the perfect choice for our officiant, though I hope I still hold that opinion after the ceremony. "We are gath- sorry, assembled here today to celebrate the union of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.</p><p>"Everybody here knows that the love they share is fantastic and whatnot. We all love them, through thick and through thin- excluding that point when they said they just wanted to do a courthouse wedding. God knows we need a spectacle.</p><p>"I won't talk too much, I'll let the lovebirds speak. Bucky, do you want to start?"</p><p>I nod, and smile at the man standing in front of me. "Steve, we've led pretty crazy lives. Until a year ago, I thought that we would just keep stumbling through life and never stop falling. But I have been blessed with stability. And even if we kept messing up and being caught in the crossfire and being attacked by countless enemies, I'd be glad to do it with you. Because I love you, Steve, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you- no matter where that life takes us."</p><p>"Steve?" Tony nods encouragingly at his friend, who turns to me with love in his eyes.</p><p>"Bucky... you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I know that I... I forgot my vows. Damnit." I laugh, and he swats my arm. "Shut up. Aw, well, you know how I feel about you- I love you. More than anything, more than life itself. And I wanna marry you, so let's just forget the fact that I'm completely botching my vows and get on with it, yeah?"</p><p>Everyone laughs, Bruce particularly loudly. I turn to see him clutching his stomach with a large green hand, and lean back in the specially designed chair we got for him. His union with the Hulk was unexpected but wonderful, and we all were so proud of him when he came back from that month long trip to India about three feet taller.</p><p>Tony grins and pushes his glasses back up on his nose, looking at me. "Alright, then. Repeat after me, Robocop. I, James Buchanan Barnes."</p><p>"I, James Buchanan Barnes."</p><p>"Take you to be my husband."</p><p>"Take you to be my husband." I smile at Steve, who squeezes my hands.</p><p>"In sickness and in health..."</p><p>"Through good times and bad..."</p><p>"Because nothing can keep us apart." Steve's deep voice wavers on those last words, and I try to contain my own emotion.</p><p>Tony practically yells, "I now pronounce you married! Kiss, goddammit!"</p><p>We obey, melding our lips together over the sounds of cheering. I pull back to see tears on his face, and wipe them away with a scarred and calloused hand. Everyone around us is yelling and cheering, but all I can see is him.</p><p>Tony pulls us into the tent behind the altar, where a table waits for us. He pulls out two pens with a flourish, and hands them to us. "Time to dot your i's and cross your t's, boys."</p><p>"Neither of us have an 'i' in our name, Tony," I tease.</p><p>He looks confused, and ponders for a moment. "Steven Grant Rogers... James Buchan-"</p><p>"Let's just sign them, already! We have a reception to get to!"</p><p>I chuckle at Steve's interjection and turn my attention to the page, happily signing the name Bucky Rogers for the first time. Tony has us walk out of the tent first once that's taken care of, holding hands and grinning like a couple of idiots.</p><p>Clint runs forward at the sight of us and tackles us in a hug. I guess there's the start of the receiving line. "Congrats, you guys!" he screams, positively giddy. We accept the well wishes gladly and move on.</p><p>Everyone else has mostly the same things to say- "congratulations, we love you, so happy for you both". All of the Avengers and their families were able to make it- we double and triple checked that the day worked for everyone.</p><p>A sort of melancholy wonder fills me as face after face comes before us offering kind words and smiles. Five years ago, something like this would've seemed impossible. Remembering everything that's led to this point, it almost feels unreal. But it's made real by the soft kisses pressed to my cheeks, the big hugs I'm gifted, and most importantly- Steve standing next to me, enjoying it all by my side. These people, they've made it real. This man, he's made it real.</p><p>We move to the Barton's barn, which has been thoroughly cleaned and decorated for the occasion. Steve and I both agreed to keep things casual- while people were free to dress up, we mostly just wanted to sign the papers and do some dancing to celebrate. All the extra fanfare was due to the Stark's insistence.</p><p>Everyone noisily sets down suit jackets and clutches on chairs, populating the various seating arrangements filling about half of the barn. Stevie and I are the only ones with saved seats, everyone else just fills in where they want to. Since the ceremony was in the evening, we asked that our guests just eat beforehand. The barn isn't that big, and we needed space for a dance floor.</p><p>The pianist from earlier also happens to moonlight as a DJ, which I found hilarious to no end. He takes his seat behind a computer and speakers and begins playing music, inviting everyone else to hush. Steve takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor, turning to face me and placing a hand firmly on my lower back.</p><p>"Hey, baby."</p><p>I hum my happiness and simply rest my head on his shoulder. My biggest concern with this wedding was that if it was too big, we would just have to pander to our guests the whole time. But those concerns seem meaningless now, being spun around to a classic love song. "Hey, Steve."</p><p>"Feel like I haven't gotten to talk to you all day," he mumbles into my ear, "Too busy getting ready and shit."</p><p>"Well, I made you breakfast."</p><p>"Yeah, but you made everyone breakfast! Which was great, of course, the Bartons clearly love your cooking, but..."</p><p>"But you want me all to yourself."</p><p>"Mmmm, maybe."</p><p>I laugh lightly and sigh, just enjoying being near him. I can hear camera shutters going off like crazy, but all I feel is a suit jacket on my cheek that smells like Steve's cologne. That smells like my husband's cologne. God, I'll never get tired of saying that. Just dancing with my husband, talking with my husband, spending forever with my husband.</p><p>The song ends, and I reluctantly pull away. I spot a table loaded with snacks on the far wall, and gasp. I completely forgot that we bought Doritos, and good God do I want some. I run towards the table and grab a bag before they're gone, as Steve yells his outrage. "Hey, where you going?" he calls out playfully as a more upbeat song starts.</p><p>I'm momentarily distracted by the food when I see Tony Stark get dragged onto the dance floor by an overexcited teenage boy. The kid grins as he yells, "I love this song!" Tony rolls his eyes, but I notice that he doesn't walk away. Softie.</p><p>Steve walks towards me, and I offer the bag of Doritos. "Sorry for hurting your feelings, want snacks?" He takes them quickly and gives me a hug before shoving about fifteen chips in his mouth at once. "Steve Rogers, I'm ashamed of you!"</p><p>"Bucky Rogers, you should be." The sound of my name on his lips puts butterflies in my stomach, and he knows it. He presses a kiss to my forehead after swallowing the chips, then laughs. "Dammit, I got Dorito on your face."</p><p>I roll my eyes and grab a napkin, wiping it away. Sam comes over and grabs Steve's arm. "C'mon, join the party!"</p><p>The rest of the night passes in a blur. Most of the kids are brought inside by the nanny Laura hired after about a half hour, though Lila insists on staying until we eat cake. After being regretfully informed that we don't have any, she cries and pouts in the corner before taking her overtired ass to bed.</p><p>Once it's just adults, things get slightly out of hand. Sam and Clint become very drunk and perform a tearful rendition of My Heart Will Go On, as Tony and Pepper act out the entirety of Titanic. I mostly stick with Steve, although I also take some time to dance my heart out with more of our guests.</p><p>As the night turns to morning, things start winding down. The DJ leaves, and everyone else decides to go home. After plenty of goodbyes, I walk with Steve to the end of the long driveway. "You sober?"</p><p>"Very. You?"</p><p>"Yep."</p><p>With that clarified, I hop in the passenger's seat of our car. Steve gladly drives, and turns on a classic rock station as we travel along dark and untraveled roads. We finally reach our hotel, and make our way up to the room we checked into this morning.</p><p>Once the door is shut tight behind us, I feel arms wrap around my waist. "I dunno if I'm feeling sex tonight, honestly..." I say, and he nods.</p><p>"Me neither. Too sleepy. Wanna cuddle?" I pull him towards the bed as a reply.</p><p>Once we're stripped of the suits and comfortably nestled under the covers, I allow his intoxicating presence lure my near the doors of sleep. "I love you," I whisper, hoping he's still awake.</p><p>"I love you, too."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>End of Book Four</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Final Note</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm including the final note here as well just because it's sweet and I was very emotional when I ended this series. For reference, this note was originally posted in October 2020, after five months of dedicated writing. The word count I give is different than the one you see on AO3 because on Wattpad I wrote a 3000ish word recap for each of the sequels, and I did not include those in this version of the series.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I have a lot to say, but I'll keep this short.</p><p>I posted the first chapter of WANTED-A Stucky Fanfiction on May 11, 2020. I intended it to be fifteen chapters and an epilogue, where Steve and Bucky got married. But because I received such wonderful support, because you made me feel loved and appreciated, this turned into 4 books, 84 chapters, and 105,630 words that I am so proud I was able to share with you.</p><p>Over the course of this series, I have met some wonderful people and improved my writing as a result of their guidance and support. The first chapters of WANTED were terrible, but I'm keeping them as they are to show just how much you all have impacted my writing over time.</p><p>Not everyone read the entire series, which I don't mind at all. The fact that anyone chose to read any amount of it brings me joy. I hope that people continue to read it as time goes on, but the people I've tagged below are the ones who kept me going, the ones who stuck with me through writer's block and hard times, the ones I will always be grateful for. You deserve to be appreciated, so let me appreciate you.</p><p>[Tagging my readers and shit]</p><p>I'm sad to see this story end. I've been working on it for a long time, and knowing it's finished...I'm emotional to say the least. But I know I'll keep writing, keep giving you stories, keep growing and improving and loving this amazing community that has supported me through thick and through thin.</p><p>The LOVED Quartet is finished, but I am certainly not. So, for the last time...</p><p>Lots of love,<br/>
The Author</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>More specific to AO3...I don't know anything about this platform. I hope I can make the same connections with authors that I have on Wattpad, I hope I can get honest feedback on my work, but most of all? I just want to be able to touch people with my writing. That's all I've ever wanted, really, and I'm so grateful that I've had the chance to do so already. It's hard to feel the same way I did when I originally finished this story, because back then I was writing my final note to a small group of dedicated readers who had spent FIVE MONTHS reading my almost daily updates and giving me lots of opinions. I had gotten to know them, while they got to know me. They read Author's Notes along the way, which helped them understand my life and how it influenced my writing. It was different than now, when I'm posting the completed series with no notes for an audience of one.<br/>This story is still important to me, though. It brought me into the fan fiction world, which is shockingly intelligent and thoughtful. It helped me develop my writing, and feel accomplished in times of immense struggle. So, I'm gonna ramble, because I love the LOVED Quartet with all my heart and I truly hope that the people reading this feel the same. Thank you for reading.</p>
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